Failure to Thrive
by Julesnerd
Summary: Bella is sexually unfulfilled after four horrible encounters. She meets Edward Masen, and things begin to change. Edward is sexally insatiable and Bella has been told she's frigid. B/E/AH/AU/OOC. Rated M for a reason! Lemons to follow. Humor/Sarcasm
1. Cat Fancy

**Summary: Bella remains sexually unfulfilled after three separate liaisons with "boys" instead of men. She encounters Edward Masen, and things begin to change. B/E/AH/AU/OOC. Rated M for a reason! **

The office had that generic, institutional feel to it with periwinkle naugahyde chairs and well-thumbed-through magazines on the glass occasional table. The sign on the frosted glass door read: Dr. Carlisle Cullen, MD. Licensed Sex Therapist. Blushing furiously, Bella shoved through the door, shuffled over to the receptionist desk, and after signing the check-in clipboard, made it to one of those pleather chairs - all without making eye contact with a single soul in the office. A figure glinted dimly in the periphery of her vision.

_Odd colored hair…_ she thought to herself without really looking. Leaning forward she snagged one of those magazines off of the table.

_Cat Fancy_…._harrumph_. _Does someone in this office have a weird sense of humor? Sex therapy office with Cat Fancy magazines? Why don't they just put the Time Magazine Cover with James Bond and Pussy Galore from the 60's?_

The person in the other chair uncrossed his legs and repositioned himself. He sighed and threw his periodical on the end table near him.

"Miss Swan?" queried the receptionist.

"That's me," replied Bella still hiding behind her _Cat Fancy_ magazine.

"We have some forms for you to fill out."

"Roger that." Bella scooted forward too quickly, slammed her knee on the glass table and muttered something under her breath about deities and crackers, before heading back to the desk. Retrieving the clipboard, she had the forms filled out in about two minutes flat.

"May I pay my co-pay now, too?" Bella asked politely, wanting nothing more than to slink back to her chair.

The receptionist performed all of her fiscal tasks without really acknowledging Bella as a real person, and Bella was grateful for the lack of attention or small talk. Bella's eyes moseyed over to the left where a giant O'Keeffe watercolor dominated the wall adjacent to the hallway.

_You've got to be kidding me. First Cat Fancy and now gargantuan symbolic vagina paintings…uhh…subtle much? Methinks not!_ She snickered to herself quietly. _Wait. I didn't say any of that out loud, did I?_ Bella tried to tap into her auditory memory; had no success; and finally gave up. The slippery plastic of the chair was unwelcoming when she returned.

"So what are you in for?" a silken voice slithered in her ear.

"Are you serious? You're going to ask me that? In THIS office? Doesn't the door pretty much say it all?" Bella huffed belligerently.

"So what are you in for?" he repeated relentlessly.

"'Failure to thrive' is what I saw the last shrink scribble into his notes when he thought I wasn't looking."

_Ohmygodohmygodohmygod…shoot me now! Why the heck did I tell him that? Oh shit! I now resemble a cranberry with eyeballs and lips. Why does this always happen to me?_

"It's no big deal, really. I just wanted to talk to someone." She looked up at him for the first time and froze. It was more than just unusual hair color. His jaw. His mouth. His eyes.

_STOP STARING_ BELLA! _Eyes on the magazine. Cats! Long haired Persians… from the Himalayan Mountains…. Prone to excessive fur balls unless you groom them daily…Small scizzors are essential to the careful removal of knotted masses of belly furr…there. I have some control again. _

"How 'bout you? What's your crime?"

"Insatiability," he replied- his forehead wrinkled in an intense frown. He didn't say anything else. He wasn't smirking. His face was devoid of any irony. He actually looked…. troubled?

"Oh come on."

"Huh? Oh! You think that was a line? No… uh... Miss Swan, is it? That was definitely not a line. I do not hunker in sex therapy offices to admit to pervy conditions in order to pick up women. I didn't mock you. Please extend me the same courtesy," he said with stilted dignity.

"Hunker, huh?" she snickered at him.

"Troll, loll, lollygag, skulk. Take your pick."

"Swan…? Ms. Swan? Room two please. The doctor will see you in a few minutes."

Bella threw the _Cat Fancy_ magazine onto the table and schlumped off down the hallway. She didn't look back and said nothing more to Copperhair.

The doctor's visit was short and routine. It wasn't Dr. Carlisle like the door said. It was actually E. McCarty, MD., according to the embroidery on his white coat. He was big - really big. Tall—_good grief,_ he had to be like 6'3". He was broad-shouldered and occupied what felt like half of the small space. She shook his hammer-fist hand - her palm feeling dwarfed by his size. Tension slowly snaked its way up her spine and into her neck.

"So I've read through your file that was sent over from the other office. Was there anything new you wanted to discuss?"

"I really just want to continue what Dr. Pfeiffer told me to do. You know….try? I'm still not attracted to anyone around me. I still haven't felt any kind of ….uhh…. sexual arousal…I tense up most of the time. I haven't had a severe panic attack in over a year, and I want to keep it that way. So, here I am."

"No severe panic attack, and you're med free?" he asked quietly while looking directly at me and writing on a file folder pad at the same time.

_How does he do that?_

"Yup."

"Describe your last panic attack, please? Take your time, details are not required here… just the general idea."

"Well, I was on a date with Tyler Crowley. We were in his car. The date was… well, I thought the date was almost over." The last part came out in a rush. "TylerCrowleytouchedmybreastsandIstartedtohyperventilate. I didn't black out, though. I just-got out of the car and ran inside."

"Bella, have you been on a date since then?"

"Uh…no?"

"Have you touched anyone? Hugged someone? Held anyone's hand or touched someone's forearm? That was the instruction in Pfeiffer's notes for your last visit with him."

"Uh….er….I… bumped into someone at the Frosty Freeze. Does that count?"

Dr. McCarty grimaced and looked up at the ceiling tiles.

_Okay Bella, klutzy contact does NOT count. Stop being stupid! Try harder!_

"Every little bit helps," he said softly, surprising me. "I want you to do two things before I see you in two weeks. First, I want you to make non-threatening casual contact with someone you trust. It can be any form of touch that you think you can handle. Second, I want you to say yes to two things that you normally would decline. You can pick and choose when to say yes or no. Don't wait too long, though… Your options will get slimmer by the end of that time frame, okay?"

"Okay Dr. McCarty. Thanks. This was better than I thought it would be."

"We don't break out the whips and dildos until the second visit," he said deadpan. My eyes became as round as saucers, and then I began to laugh…and then snicker… and then guffaw….

He was laughing too.

"One last thing, Bella," he said. "Hug, handshake or high five?"

I tilted my head to the side and asked him to explain.

"When we end each session, you as the patient are entitled to a hug, a handshake or a high five. What would you like today?"

Bella nibbled on her lower lip as she considered.

_Well I haven't done anything deserving of a high five-so save that until it counts. I already shook his hand when we came in and that was okay. Good gawd, can I hug this Cyclops sized creature?_

Before I could stop myself I blurted out, "Hug." I was immediately, albeit gently, engulfed in a soft, warm embrace and then released just as quickly.

"Well done, Bella. You can consider that completion of assignment number one. Now go out there and get to work on assignment two."

He strode down the hallway and I walked out slowly. I puttered down the corridor, tripping only twice. The soles of my Chucks just don't do well with carpet. Or tile. Or linoleum. Or concrete. Or air for that matter. I Jerry-Lewis-stumbled into the doorframe of the reception office and looked up. Copperhair was standing by the glass wall-leaning next to the glass door. The sun was glinting off his hair, seeping over his shoulders, and backlighting his legs.

"Do you want to get out of here?" he asked.

I must have been drooling and foaming at the mouth by this point.

_Is this what attraction feels like? Huh. My arms want to reach out and touch. If my entire body wasn't screaming, "paralyzed" right now, I might actually act on that thought…_

He was saying something again-only it sounded like he was talking under water. I reeled myself back in.

"Will you drink some tea with me? Or Coffee? Whatever you prefer really."

Bella was immediately faced with a decision.

_How many times have I said no to something like this in the last eleven months? How long have I been burying my head in the dirt? It's like I've decapitated my brain when it comes to interacting with other people. So, Bella…take a chance on this…intriguingly appealing person…or start deepening that hole in the dirt. What do you want? What do you want? I'm making him stand here, awkwardly…Gosh, he's really patient…I want him._

"Um…. yes?" I walked forward and he opened the door.

**A/N:**

**The reference to the James Bond **_**Time **_**magazine cover is fictitious. I made that up to suit my purposes. Check out Georgia O'Keeffe's work if you've had the misfortune to miss her preoccupation with the female form. **

**The sexual dysfunctions of "failure to thrive" as well as "insatiability" are fictitious. Any similarities to real sexual conditions are entirely coincidental.**

**Frigidity is real condition described as "failure of a female to respond to sexual stimulus characterized by an aversion to sexual intercourse or anorgasmia (failure to achieve an orgasm).**

**Bella has been told that she is frigid. Keep reading to find out the truth for yourself…**


	2. Starbuck's

**Don't own Twilight….I do have access to a marmalade colored Tabby named Liger who likes to neck me and leave scratch marks cuz he owns me.**

BPOV

He was wearing sunglasses now, so I couldn't read his emotions, or even try. The Los Angeles sunshine was blinding in its brilliancy as we walked out of the offices and down the lane towards the corner Starbuck's.

"I can't see shit," I hissed, covering my face and stumbling slightly. I felt cool fingers gently attach my fingers to his forearm. He placed his own left palm on top like we were promenading with parasols and white gloves. He still hadn't said _anything_ since we left the office.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"No problem," he returned.

My eyes had adjusted by now and we were almost to the door of the coffee shop. He again held open this door for me and I, thankfully, walked through the threshold unscathed. My confidence returning, I turned to him as he was hooking his sunglasses over the top of the neck of his T-shirt.

_He likes Fossil sunglasses too!_

"Whatcha gonna get?"

"Hot tea," he replied.

"What _kind _of hot tea?" I inquired.

"Stash Earl Grey with milk and Splenda," he replied before I could finish the question.

Puckering my lips and looking to the heavens for inspiration, I came up with my next interrogative.

"What _kind _of milk?"

"Goat's."

Sputtering with laughter, I smacked him lightly in the arm.

"No really, what kind of milk?"

His lips were twitching as he fought the impulse to grin.

"Why do you need to know?"

"Oh…" I pontificated, "You can learn a lot about a person by the specs on his drink. For instance, soy milk used to scream 'Yuppie'. Now it's much more mainstream to choose that as an option. Whole milk is indulgent… much richer than the 2% or 1% varieties. Cream is even worse. Skim milk may speak of restraint or personal comfort."

The line had been steadily moving forward and now it was our turn to order. He rattled off his order. I made note that he didn't specify what variety of milk. Turning to me with one brow raised he waited patiently.

_He didn't specify what kind of milk? He's just going to drink whatever they give him? Wow, I wish I had that level of fortitude for the thick blue whole fat stuff that coats the glass- totally gagg inducing. Even the 2% stuff is pushing it. He's some kind of milk tolerant super hero. Charlie was my milk arch nemesis. Loved the whole stuff! Bleck, gagg, hurl!_

"Venti Blackberry Shaken Iced Tea Lemonade No Syrup Extra Ice," I pronounced confidently.

_Best drink ever!_

He paid, and with that whole production put to rest, we strolled over to a cushy chair grouping near the back.

_Dab nab it! My milk induced stupor caused me to miss his name at the counter. Did he give his first, last, or nickname? Shoot, shoot, shoot!_

"So what does your drink say about you?" he said, turning the conversation back towards me.

"Well," I said, scrambling, "First and foremost it says that I'm thirsty - Venti." I said with an eyebrow quirk. "Blackberry indicates that I like fruity things… so I could be frivolous and flighty." I shook my head indicating otherwise. "Shaken tells the world that I'm too lazy to stir things on my own. The lemonade part reveals a tartness to my personality. The no syrup thing… well, for a woman that could be one of two things: consciousness of calories… or a distinct displeasure with all things icky sweet. The ice could mean that I've been disappointed enough to receive lukewarm tea with no ice left, or it could mean that I like to crunch on ice as an after drink snack. Now if a man orders my drink? Totally gay."

"What??!!" he sputtered. "What if he's thirsty and likes fruit? Is acceptance of _fruit _inherently gay? Who comes up with this stuff?" Rolling his eyes he got up to grab the drinks when the barrista yelled, "MASEN!" rather loudly.

_That's it! I wonder if that's spelled with an "E" or an "O." Maybe he's descended from stonemasons of the not so recent past…Or, maybe he has some Danish descent in his background like that girl Petersen in my knitting circle._

"I'm just yankin' your chain, Masen," I said when he returned. "It's a game that my friends and I play. We observe drink orders and make hideous assumptions about people. A man would never order a girlie drink like that unless he was _really_ confident in his sexuality or if he was totally in love with the woman near him and simply didn't care about the ribbing he'd take for fetching her lady-drink."

"Okay, okay, okay. Enough of this Starbuck's Drink Psychology." He gazed at me carefully before he continued. "May I ask you something intensely personal?"

I got lost in the intensity of his green eyes for a moment and failed to qualify my answer.

"Yes."

His brows shot up…..in triumph? "What does 'Failure to Thrive' mean? I assume it's in some sort of sexual context given Dr. Carlisle…I mean… how could a creature as delectable as yourself fail to thrive sexually?"

Oddly I didn't begin blushing. I felt bizarrely calm as I 'fessed up to the whole shameful clusterfuck that was my life.

"Well…my teen years were not exactly…average," I began slowly. "My stepbrother James attacked me when I was fourteen. He didn't rape me……uh… exactly. He was really invasive and rough with me. He used to chase me a lot and it kind of creeped me out. Let's just leave that there for a moment…ok?"

I looked up from the straw casing I was shredding into a mess on the scarred wooden table. He was focusing on some spot on the wall behind me with a very grim expression on his face and his hands were fisted on top of his denim clad thighs. I actually turned around to see what had captured his ire, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Swiveling back around, I continued.

"I'm basically a loser magnet… uh…excepting yourself I hope… You're not a loser are you?" I said chuckling self consciously. It broke the tension a little bit, and his shoulders sunk back to a more natural position. He shook his head negatively allowing me to continue, while he sipped his tea.

"Well…that negative experience…seemed to sour me on the whole physical affection scenario. I became anxious in social settings - not wanting to be touched in any way. I never knew what would set off a panic attack. When I had an episode in the gym at a pep rally in front of the entire student body in high school, I decided to seek help. I've been in counseling ever since. Today I had my first hug from a relatively new male acquaintance. I didn't break out into a full body sweat or tremble or have an episode. I'm slowly moving forward. My biggest fear is that I'll have a setback and regress again. There are other things that you don't need to know about. But, that's it… in a nutshell."

After a deep breath, I took a large sip through the straw of my drink and let the cold liquid slowly run down my parched throat, wondering silently what it was about him that had made me share part of my personal history so willingly.

"Thank you so much for trusting me enough to share that." He looked up from setting his drink down again. "It was something so intensely personal," he looked at me steadily. "I value your openness." His hand was resting on the edge of the grey suede armchair and he cracked a few knuckles-single handedly. "However, I get the sense that was the tip of the iceberg…90% of an iceberg is under the surface of the water, you know, most of an iceberg's secrets remain hidden…Was that the extremely edited, safe for viewing before 8pm television version?"

_Did he just call me an iceberg? Don't get huffy Bella; Let the man have his analogy- he doesn't know you're clinically frigid. He would never use that turn of phrase if he had a clue._

"If you add one more analogy into that mess I can give you a free toaster… honestly… icebergs and television… what's next? Penguins?" I was deftly avoiding his questions, and I feared he would see right through it. Perhaps he would know I wasn't ready. Instead I parried with my own question.

"Insatiable huh?" I couldn't help grinning. "Is that the clinical expression for a sex addict?"

A horrified look appeared on his face. Frowning, shaking his head and looking down he stuttered, "Nnno. I'm not a sex addict. I'm just going to be blunt, okay? I can… arrive if you will… but after, I'm not satisfied, exactly. It's not the same thing as a man with extreme stamina… for instance…I become obsessive, and it affects my ability to function. Whenever an obsession inhibits you from performing your normal activities, then it's unhealthy… right? I have obsessive compulsions, but I don't have any of the self-destructive behaviors of a sexual addict. I don't want to deal in numbers exactly… but let's say that being with me sexually is frustrating for me and physically taxing for the average woman…I tend not to inflict myself on others. It's more compassionate that way."

"Wow," I breathed. "What a pair we are. You can't get enough, and I can't get off at all," I blurted out in a strangled voice. I sputtered and began laughing. Gasping and clutching the arms of the chair, I managed to get out, "I'm NOT laughing at you…. I swear! I'm laughing at the situational irony."

More gurgling laughter ensued until he was chuckling as well. I laughed until I was lightheaded and weak. The other patrons in the coffee shop were staring at us like we were two monkeys trying to boat down a river on a banana peel. Their eyes were full of disgust at our juvenile antics. We were in the snooty part of Los Angeles, after all.

"You'd better put your sunglasses back on. I think we just lost ten cool points for my old lady cackling. The shades should do the trick." He slid the frames back over his eyes. We had finished our respective drinks, and he stared at the empty cups, seemingly trying to muster the courage to ask me something else.

"Can I drop you somewhere? I… uh…. My car's in the lot at the doctor's office. Did you drive here?" he said quickly.

_He offered to drive you back to get rid of you quickly. Fun's over, Bella. Make your polite excuses and head back to your homey cave- safer there anyway._

"No. I walked…Thank you for sharing a drink with me. It was fun." A smile escaped me, but I quickly squashed it and stood up.

"I'll just be going now." He let me get half-way to the door before he yelled out.

"Give me your phone!"

I stopped. The whole café stopped. I felt like I was trapped in a movie warp. Everyone was watching to see what I would do next. I turned around looking puzzled. My left hand hit my butt where my cell phone had made a square on the back of my black jeans.

"You know there's a T-Mobile store two windows down. They have the new Sidekick and the Blackberry Storm, I think. You don't need to highwayman my phone, Masen."

"Just give me the damn phone," he growled, and nearly ripped it from my hand when I held it out to him. He quickly made a profile for himself with all three of his numbers in my outdated Samsung phone. I simply stared back at him and held my hand out coyly wiggling the tips of my fingers. He handed over a silver phone with all the bells and whistles. Not having any idea how to program his phone…I simply called myself and hit save afterwards. In his contact list when the screen came up, I simply typed in SWAN. I handed him back his phone and watch him slip it into his left rear pocket.

_Same pocket._

I didn't tell him my first name. He hadn't asked, and I wasn't going to offer it up if he did. He was too dangerous… had too strong a hold over me. The last thing I need is for him to say my name under any circumstances- I might melt into a puddle of idiotic willingness to do whatever he asked.

_Shikers! I can't believe I told him as much as I did._

I turned and walked away again.

"Swan!"

I slowly turned. He snapped my picture without any warning. I had my hands on my hips, my eyebrows raised- a look of patient frustration on my face. _Ugh...not a good picture. _

"Are we done here?" I asked petulantly.

"Yes. Of course. Scurry about, Miss. What are you still doing here?" he asked me innocently.

_He's joking with me? He is so confusing! Just go home Bella, it's much easier than human interaction. _

I quickly snapped my mouth shut.

_When the heck did my mouth fall open? When he told you to scurry on home like a rodent._

I spun on my heel and made tracks out the door. The breeze had kicked up, mixing with the smell of auto fumes and fast food. I huffed it down the sidewalk, strands of my ordinary brown hair clinging to my lips. Heavy footfalls sounded from behind me, and I quickly flattened myself against the bridal store I happened to be near. My fists were clenched up near my shoulders, instinctively. Adrenaline pulsed through me causing my heart to speed up and my breathing to increase. Dumbass that I was, my eyes were squeezed shut, however. That was me. Fists raised. Eyes closed in fear. In a punching match with a blind old man, I could kick major butt. I peeled one eye open. Bronze hair, delightfully tussled. Green eyes looking at me with infinite concern.

"May I have use of your right hand?"

_He's asking your permission, Bella. When has any guy ever given you a choice? He listened to you in there. He might even get you a little bit. Say yes. It's not that hard. Say yes. Can't. Lips are frozen; hands are still in fists. Say something!_

"As long as I get it back sometime soon."

He cautiously approached me. His longer, cool fingers loosened my tight little fist. I wiggled my fingers reflexively, and then looked at my hand and then back at his face. For the second time today, a man with an overabundance of testosterone was touching me, and I was okay with it. He backed up a step and held out his left hand palm up, waiting. He stood there…one heartbeat, two…..his eyes locked onto mine, when I slowly placed my palm in his with hesitant trust.


	3. The Long Walk Home

**AN: I will continue to write this cliché crap as long as the inspiration strikes:) **

**Stephenie Meyer owns all**** things Twilight… I just like to sex up her characters…I'm pretty sure the sexing up will happen eventually, just not right now while her characters are walking down a public street. **

Backing up a bit:

BPOV

"May I have use of your right hand?"

_He's asking your permission, Bella. When has any guy ever given you a choice? He listened to you in there. He might even get you a little bit. Say yes. It's not that hard. Say yes. Can't. Lips are frozen; hands are still in fists. Say something!_

"As long as I get it back sometime soon."

He cautiously approached me. His longer, cool fingers loosened my tight little fist. I wiggled my fingers reflexively, and then looked at my hand and then back at his face. For the second time today, a man with an overabundance of testosterone was touching me, and I was okay with it. He backed up a step and held out his left hand palm up, waiting. He stood there…one heartbeat, two…..his eyes locked onto mine, when I slowly placed my palm in his with hesitant trust.

"So why is my hand required for this next….activity….we are doing something here, right?" I intoned questioningly. "It's Friday evening… the sun is going down. This is turning into something longer than I anticipated."

"I'm walking you home" he said in dulcet tones. "We're supposed to hold hands until our palms get sweaty, and then we take a break from hand holding. At least that's what I think the manual said."

He looked puzzled for a moment, but I could see his cheek twitching a bit.

"Manual?" I repeated, willing to take his bait.

"How To Hit On Women At Sex Therapy For Geniuses"

"Geniuses, huh?" I scoffed lightly. "Can't you just be a dummy like the rest of us?"

"I like you," he said with a restrained grin, "So clearly, I'm no dummy."

"Guhhh…Sappy nonsense! Masen… I expected so much better than that!" I was giddy with excitement at his sappiness. So adorable. "So what brings you to Westwood, Sir?"

"UCLA School of Architecture and Urban Design. I have a thing for gabled windows and flying buttresses. I'm trying to restrain my column fetish, and don't get me started on pediments. Your eyes will start to glaze over and then we'll have to do chest compressions to bring you out of the coma."

He was walking slowly next to me as he spoke, and I observed he was not stepping on the cracks of the sidewalk. I began to try to imitate his footings, but his legs were like fourteen inches longer than mine. Instead I swung his arm back and fourth like a child. He glanced down at me, raised his eyebrows at my clowning around and allowed me to continue.

"What about you, Miss Swan?" he asked, sounding genuinely interested.

"English and Comparative Literature - UCLA as well…Go Bruins!" I replied with a smirk. "I have a thing for words. I'm a logophile with a latent talent for foot in mouth disease. I aspire to speak beautifully, but usually end up tongue-tied or blurting out the wrong thing. Eighteen to twenty-four hours later, the perfect one-line zinger will dance across the stage of my brain. It's a talent," I said with a nonchalant shrug.

"Sooooo," he said, preparing me for some kind of conversational gambit less appealing than a dentist's chair. "Tell me about Loser Number One. That is, if you feel like discussing loserdom; I don't mean your stepbrother. He is an asshole, and that's a whole other list."

His casual approach to discussing my fucktarded life was actually the right way to go. I was taken aback by his intuitiveness.

"Well, I worked at this Footlocker back in my home state of Washington. Mike Newton was the assistant manager of the store. He was nice to me at first, but I could tell something was off about him. I just couldn't put my finger on it. Oh yeah - he was a loser! No, loser is too nice of a word. He was slimy. He thought that because he had blond hair and blue eyes - that made him God's gift to women. But wait, this is all my perception of him after the fact. In the beginning he flattered me, and complimented me, which made me nervous. I didn't want to hurt his feelings, though, because in his mind, he was being nice to me. After about a month of working there, he told me the whole crew was going to a barbecue at the beach. I was the only one that showed up. While hurrying back to my car, he planted one on me – and I completely froze. I went into immediate flashbacks to what James had done to me. That paralyzed feeling came over me. I actually couldn't use my arms for a second. I started to hyperventilate and turn blue. I was making this awful gasping sound. Mike got wide-eyed, called me a freak, and ran off. A church group having a party at the beach took care of me, gave me a paper bag to breathe in, and helped me get home. This commenced the completion of my brief stint in the field of athletic footwear. I could still sell you on a pair of a really expensive pair of cross trainers, though. I know my footwear."

He smiled at me, but his eyes were sad. "I wish I could have been there to grind his face into the sand, give him the pounding that he deserves, and then to take care of you."

His voice was gentle but his words were lethal. It was an odd combination.

"I really don't think wasting any measure of energy on him is worth it."

We were walking past storefronts, and I noticed one of my favorite shops up ahead.

"Have you ever gone to this cookie place up ahead? I don't have the appetite for sweets right now, but some other time, you _have_ to go in there. It is a nirvana experience. They have almost any gourmet cookie you want... and it's homemade-fresh….oooohmygod good! So you pick your cookie and you pick whatever flavor of ice cream you want… They will make you the ice cream cookie sandwich of your life. If you go for that sort of thing."

"It sounds like something best shared with someone going through the sex-steps," he intoned quite seriously.

_There's actually a clever phrase for this crap I've had to do? How does he pull off that pensive face with out a hint of a smile?_

"Dare I ask? Sex-steps?" I chuckled.

"Well, what has the good ol' doc got you doing? Doesn't he give you homework assignments too? Consider your homework a Twelve-step-program for the sexually screwed up: sex-steps.

I'll share one of mine with you, if you tell me about one of yours."

"Okay." I replied slowly with hesitation in my voice.

"This is more embarrassing than I thought," he muttered. "He made me buy porn. I didn't have any because I don't usually," he began to stammer. "This isn't coming out right at all," he finished beginning to flush slightly.

I allowed him to tug me over to a shaded bench - we were only a half a block away from my apartment complex. We sat down.

"It's okay." I said to him quietly. "You can share as little or as much as you want to."

I took this opportunity to free my hand and rub it on my jeans. He ran his fingers through his already mussed up hair. A curl dropped back onto his forehead.

"Carlisle thought that the reason for my sexual excesses was a lack of… personal pleasure. I started having sex at age eighteen, and in my mind the real thing was always better than the substitute - so I didn't have a normal self-sex life. I just got sex when I wanted to, and it wasn't a problem, at first."

"But," I sputtered, "before eighteen…didn't you?"

"I was a very, v_ery_ late bloomer - sexually that is. Other things occupied me. I was…_am_…very studious. My hobbies kept me busy and it just - girls were something on the edge of my life for a very long time. The first girl I was with - we were incompatible as far as sex drive is concerned. She wanted sex maybe once a month. I wanted….something else, so to speak." He grinned at me crookedly. "I can't believe I'm being so candid with you. Are you ready to run screaming at this point?"

"No. I have about a million questions, though. I don't want to pry, however. It's such an intensely personal. and at times, embarrassing subject. Are we trying to share too much too soon?" I questioned myself out loud.

We both turned to each other and said "NO!" in stereo and then started laughing.

"I'm on pins and needles to hear more. You are such a complete opposite of me. It's hard to make my mind encompass what it must be like to be you." He turned to me and gestured towards my hair fluttering in the breeze. "May I?"

He tucked the wayward strand of hair behind my ear and then folded his arms across his chest. My cheeks flushed involuntarily at the small contact. It faded quickly, however.

"There is a part of me that really wants to know what all the fuss is about. I mean sex, that is. I've tried to get things working on my own….and nothing. I've read salacious literature, watched things that would make the pope blush. I even kissed a girl once… and I still just froze up - although the girl didn't make me hyperventilate or faint. Just -nothing. I'm beginning to think of myself as asexual. I'm basically an earthworm, right? Maybe I just wasn't meant to fall in love and reproduce. I'll clone myself like a worm and burrow into the ground and hide. At least that's what I've been doing for years. Really successful plan, huh?"

"Well" he said, "as long as we get to pick animals, I'll be one of those dogs that dry humps anything with legs. I'll take out all furniture in the vicinity: piano legs, tables and chairs…knock things over… generally cause a ruckus. How would that be?" He grimaced and then looked up at the tree branches above us. "It's not so bad when I don't have a person in my life. I just can't seem to find the balance that I want. Somewhere between ravening beast and total monk would be nice."

_There was an idea running through my head that I really wanted to voice out loud. I just couldn't come up with a feasible way to offer the suggestion. 'Hey! How bout we explore each other sexually?' Ack! Truly epic fail, Bella. _And then I just blurted it out.

"What if we try to help each other?"

As soon as the words left my mouth I knew that I had made a blunder of epic proportions. He would think I was a loser, a halfwit, sexually frustrated spinster who had gone off the deep end. Instead of looking up at him to see what must be a horrified expression, I stared down at my sneakers, rubbing the toes together and hiding behind my hair. He'll get up and leave eventually. Time seemed to drag by so slowly. Suddenly he spoke.

"I'm thinking here," he said slowly. "Don't interpret my slowness to answer or my hesitancy as anything other than caution for your welfare."

His words began to seep into my slow brain.

_He was thinking! Thinking is good._

I smiled behind my hair.

"We have to get to know each other pretty well before any… experimenting… can begin. It's one of my steps" he muttered sheepishly. He was looking down too. He extended his Vans (with skulls on them) next to my Converse. Okay, so his legs reached almost into the street and I was having a hard time not checking him out. The fit on his jeans! I'd never noticed that about a person before… the denim clung to his legs with just the right amount of looseness and… snugness.

_Could he be any more perfect?_

"What if we…no, that's' experimental," I said out loud. "What if we try this at an excruciatingly slow pace in order to force us to get to know each other like you said we're supposed to…?"

"Well" he said. "You have sexual PTSD…..so are we kidding ourselves here? I think we have to work on one of us at a time. It's going to have to be mostly about you for however long you are able to participate. We might have to consider the possibility that you will hit a brick wall sexually, and I won't know how to get you over that wall-so to speak."

"Sexual Brick Wall, huh?"

"What's your normal freeze up trigger?" he turned to face me squarely.

"Um…er… you're not going to believe this," I whispered.

"Just spit it out, Swan. I can take it. I think." He looked worried now.

"All the casual touching we've done this evening would normally send me into my sputtering and backing away routine. I can't for the life of me figure out why you've been able to hold my hand or get close to my face as you have without me shrinking back each time. You seem to be warning me that it's going to happen each time, or asking my permission - which helps a lot."

He pursed his lips. "Okay. We know you need advance warning and to be in control. Are we seriously considering this? Maybe we're crazy." He got up from the bench and began to pace. "We only met today, dammit. I saw you for the first time….hours ago. We are both seriously messed up individuals. I think we should back up for a second and just plan to see each other again. Sexual intervention plan be hanged." he finished. He turned to look at me, his eyes beseeching.

"Are you welshing on me, Masen?" I ground out between clenched teeth.

"No. No. No! That's not it. I just don't think we can figure this out all in one day… the same day that we met….it's an emotional overdose. My head is spinning. Isn't yours?" he asked without embarrassment.

"There are some whirling dervishes in my head, yes. But I'm a woman. I can multitask," I said with a -cat licked the cream- smile.

"Jiminy Crickets! You're cute" he said pressing his twitching lips together. "Utterly adorable. Are you sure you're not some kind of voodoo priestess? You've cast this spell on me, and I don't want to be disenchanted."

"Voodoo priestess?" I said snickering. "Ok…you have to give me your phone again…and then I need to get home. It's getting late. Walk and talk, Masen."

He handed over his phone, again with a puzzled look on his face. I fiddled with his phone again for a few seconds…praying I would be able to pull this off on his relatively foreign phone operating system. I finally got to the right screen, made several clicks and then handed it back to him.

"So is kissing too experimental?" I said with aplomb. "Would that be way too incendiary for you?"

"I think we could manage to get you kissed in due time," he said in all seriousness.

We had reached the wrought iron security gate to my complex. I was wondering if he would take his leave here, or walk all the way past the Koi ponds with me. My unit was in the back of the complex and the light beside my door was burned out. He observed my front stoop and was taking in the surrounding courtyard.

"What unit does the manager live in?" he huffed with his hands tucked into the back pockets of his jeans.

"Uh….Unit 1A at the front. Why on earth would you want to know that?"

"Just being neighborly…" he said enigmatically.

"I'm not going to get anything more out of you, am I?"

"Nope."

He took a step forward. His hands were still in his back pockets. I had my key out, but made no move to open the door. He gently pried my keys out of my hands and flipped through them. Selecting one, he pressed it into the lock and left the keys dangling there. I was starting to get nervous and my breathing accelerated. I squeezed my eyes shut.

_Don't have a panic attack. Don't have a panic attack. _

"Swan?" he said, "breathe for me….slow breath in and out. That's it…deep inhale."

His voice was mellow and soothing. My eyes released their pinched hold and then fluttered open. Something was smoothing out the wrinkle in my eyebrows. His hand was touching my face.

"Now let that breath out."

I exhaled the contents of my lungs in a shaky gush. I was able to open my eyes again.

"Okay we're going to have to do something different here. I want you to lean up on your tiptoes and kiss me on the forehead. Just a quick peck. Two seconds tops."

"You actually want a silly kiss on the forehead from ME?" I asked in amazement.

"I'd really like nothing else in the world right now, except for that new version of Doom for my Xbox…and I've been meaning to get the new Wii fitness gift set. It looks kind of cool, ya know?"

Still holding my hands he let his legs slide down into a inverted V shape, so that his head was closer to my level. He kept talking about Mortal Combat and Grand Theft Auto when he looked me right in the eye and tapped himself on the forehead and winked at me. I think he was talking about taking out a liquor store and picking up a hooker on Grand Theft Auto when I reached up and kissed him on the forehead.

I didn't die.

He was still holding my hands. He looked at my forehead and then back down to my eyes. He raised his eyebrows; I nodded my head. His thumbs were rubbing over the tops of my hands. His lips pressed feather soft against the top of my head. I felt a whisper against my forehead and then my hands were released and he was taking a step away. "Get some sleep, Swan."

He turned the key in the lock while I stared at him dumbly. I walked inside, closed the door, and looked through the peephole. I pulled out my phone and called him. It rang several times.

"Witchy Woman?" he said cracking up… "That is officially my new favorite song. What are you doing tomorrow?"  
"Duh, Masen. Something with you - ya big lug. Call me after ten in the morning, okay? I'm planning to have mornings abolished in favor of sleep. If you wake me up precipitously, there will be consequences." I hung up and slid down onto the floor like a limp noodle.

"Fuck. Me."


	4. Kill All the Alarm Clocks

**AN: Bella's nightmare at the beginning of the story is a version of a repeat anxiety dream I've had about every job I've ever started. If I ever switch careers, I'll know to brace myself for the illogical naked dream…**

**At the request of a few readers, this chapter has an additional warning: Don't drink any liquids while reading. Someone out there burned her sinuses with diet coke spewing from her nose. I've been told that's rather painful. Be careful, that's all I'm saying… I suppose the same goes for food- we wouldn't want anyone to choke.**

**If you have a problem with seriously foul language, then don't read this. You've been warned…**

Chapter 4

Kill All the Alarm Clocks

BPOV

_I was standing naked in the Doctor's office. Wait. Why am I naked? __"_You just are," _replied my subconscious. "Accept it," my brain seemed to be messaging me__ without really overtly telling me. Immediately my hands dove up to cover my small breasts while my leg hitched up to give my lower regions some sort of cover. I overbalanced and slid onto the floor, my butt in the air. The whole office began to laugh at me__… my hands__ were still covering my chest, but now pinned to the carpet holding me immobile. The laughter grew louder and I started banging my head into the floor. Thud. _Idiot. _Thud. _Loser. _Thud. _Unworthy. _Thud__. _Ow! That really hurts_._

My eyes flew open and I became aware of two things at once: my head was pressed against the wall and I had actually been headbanging the wall while dreaming.

_Wow! Punish yourself much, Bella? You could at least headbang to some Metallica. _

The other thing that crept into my foggy brain was that there was actual thudding coming from my front door. My eyes darted over to my alarm clock: 7:55AM glared at me in that annoying red glow. What. The. Fuck. Whoever is here…. pounding on my door before 8AM is going to get seriously dickslapped.

_Hmmm…don't have a dick. What's the female equivalent of dickslapping someone? Clitslapped. Yah! Fucker- You're going to get clitslapped and I'm going to make you plead with your ancestors to be celibate so you'd never been born. _

I had been thumping through my apartment throwing on a robe over my Bob the Builder pajamas. Yelling in my loudest screech-owl voice I yowled, "Whoever woke me up at this hour of the morning can just…suck a bag of …!" I yanked open the door.

"Dicks!" The word hung there floating in the morning air. Copperhair was standing in front of me, a very shocked expression on his adorable mug. He had a white bag and two coffee cups in his other hand. There was a fat, balding, also shocked custodial worker standing directly behind him.

My eyes were bulging as the image of fat, ugly custodian burned itself into my rudely awoken brain. With a shudder, I turned back to Masen, who didn't look shocked anymore. His expression had changed to puzzled.

"Swan? Why a bag of dicks? Is the bag important? Why not a box or a parcel of dicks? And I'm a little puzzled as to the sucking part."

Before he could continue, I grabbed a hold of his black Everclear t-shirt and hauled him into the apartment. The poor custodian, with his work belt straining over his fat middle, looked genuinely scared to enter my abode.

"Sorry about that," I said to…John, as his name tag indicated. "Come on in. Why are you here?"

"Uh… the door and… the light. I'll just get to it then."

The custodian took a drill and began working on my door, efficiently removing the locking mechanism. His drill began to buzz and hiss while the metal casings came out in his ready hand.

"Masen, why is there a janitor removing my lock before eight in the morning? Weren't we clear that you were supposed to CALL me at ten? I'm very sorry to say this, but despite your pastry offerings and caffeine therapy - you will have to suffer a consequence." I grabbed a cup of steaming goodness and yanked the paper bag out of his hand. I peeked inside the bag. I made sure not to smile.

_Croissants. Hmmm_. _Maybe the consequence won't be that bad_

"My name is Edward. I think we're on a first name basis now, don't you? And how can I help it, if there were things to be done at this hour of the morning? It's clearly not my fault that maintenance workers start bright and early."

The janitor had finished with my door. I now had an entry with a keyed knob, a new titanium deadbolt, and a chain lock installed. The worker was outside removing my outdated light fixture.

_Wait. Why isn't the janitor fixing the blown fuse inside the light?_

The outdated, cobweb encrusted light came down with a clatter. I looked down to the box on the ground. A new Hampton Bay motion sensor lighting fixture with wrought iron scrollwork accents stood waiting on my front stoop. I turned back to Masen.

_I'm soooo not calling you Edward any time soon. Mmmm Edward. Even his name is delicious. _

I stood staring at his unrepentant expression.

_I need to make a point, or this will upset the balance of power from here on out. Now, what would be a miserable task, but not too difficult for a mere man? Aha! The refrigerator, of course._

Shaking my head at him, I stalked into the kitchen, set down the peace offerings from Edward, and grabbed a pair of rubberized cleaning gloves. I also grabbed a bottle of 409 degreaser

Working myself into a snit, I put my fists on my hips and laid into him. "Masen. You deliberately disregarded my orders to phone. Instead you interrupted my sleep, meddled with my front porch, and have shown absolutely no remorse for your egregious actions. Your consequence is to clean out my refrigerator. Shelf by shelf. Every surface must be wiped down. You don't have to do the freezer. I still have forty five minutes of sleep coming my way. Wake me when you're done if you must." I seized the coffee and the bag of croissants and stalked away in a huff. My bedroom door slammed behind me.

EPOV

Her door slamming sounded so… final.

_How did I get here? Oh yeah. You totally disregarded her simple request in order to go all protective caveman on her door. You used breakfast to try and sweeten her morning disposition-which you greatly underestimated__. __Shit. That was hot. _

I set down the 409 and the gloves on her kitchen counter.

_Would it piss her off even more if I asked her to come back out here and yell at me some more? If I get her even madder, maybe her breasts will jiggle a little bit in her Bob the Builder pajamas._

An image of me pressing her against the wall sans PJ bottoms flashed in my mind. Shaking off the image, I opened the door to her fridge. Using gloves would be an insult to my manliness, so I ignored them. I slowly removed the contents of the first shelf and began to work on spraying and wiping things down with the roll of paper towels from her dispenser. It really wasn't that dirty. A few rings, crumbs, and smears, but otherwise a normal appliance.

_I would cup her sweet ass in my hands as I pressed deeper inside her liquid warmth. Shit. Get a grip, Masen. She's a virgin in all likelihood. There won't be any sweet ass cupping... maybe ever. Calm the fuck down. _

I started in on the second shelf. There were a few things to throw away - obviously old and inedible. The containers made a swooshing sound as I tossed them into the waste bin.

John, clearly finished with the light fixture and the door, walked a few steps forward into the kitchen. "She's a real firecracker, huh?"

I turned around slowly. The intensity of my stare forestalled any further comment from him. The smile on his face faded and he dropped the new keys onto the counter. He quickly turned and left the apartment, grabbing his supplies on his way out. I added the new keys to her key ring for her, accidentally flipping my thumbnail backwards a little bit.

_Ow! Dammit._

I shook my hand back and forth and pressed the nail back down. I was done with the fridge. After washing my hands, I replaced the 409 back in her cupboard dedicated to cleaning supplies; put the roll of paper towels back into the dispenser. Everything was neat and tidy again.

_She told me to wake her up when I'm done. I should let her sleep. Fuck. That's what got you in this "consequence" scenario in the first place. Do what she requested of you, nitwit. _

I walked to the other side of the kitchen wall, opened her door gently and walked past her immense closet to see her sleeping not ten feet away from where I had just been. She really was sleeping. Her body was wrapped around some kind of long pillow - her toes curled under. Her mouth was open and her forehead was wrinkled in concentration. _I'll wake her up, but I'll be damned if I use "Miss Swan" to draw her out of sleep for the first time. _

Striding back into the other room, I let my eyes dart around quickly, looking for something in particular. There. On the coffee table was a stack of envelopes. Looking but not touching, I spied the name 'Isabella Marie Swan' on her phone bill.

_Isabella. _

All the blood rushed to my groin as the horndog in my head imagined me crying out her name as we both came together - our bodies glued together with sweet sweat. Her nipples would be pebbled against my chest and her mouth would be open just as it is right now_. _

_Holy St. Francis. I'm standing over her bed with a raging hard-on while the poor girl sleeps unaware. I am such a sick pervert. _

I hung my head and slowly sat down on the edge of her bed in disgust. My hands went to my hair and furrowed through the tangled mess. Pulling on the strands a bit, I took deep breaths until the excitement in my body waned.

"Isabella."

_Nothing._

"Izzy."

She muttered something about ambulances and a pot on the stove.

"Isabella," I tried again.

She didn't move.

"Beautiful, please wake up," I crooned. She turned her head towards the sound of my voice and her eyelids fluttered. One eye opened, taking in her surroundings.

_It's just like last night on the street. Is she scared? If I cross my arms over my chest, then I can't reach out to touch her when I shouldn't._

She sat up using her arms to bring her into a sitting position while shoving away the long pillow. She reached over to the dresser to take a long draw on the now cool coffee. The white bag settled on her lap as she took a croissant out and handed me the other one. We ate in companionable silence for a few minutes; neither of us talking. A strand of mahogany colored hair curled around her collarbones and trailed down over her breast.

_I want to be that strand of hair. Maybe she'll let me live there for a while. She could charge me rent._

She popped the last piece of the croissant into her mouth.

"What was the deal with the custodial guy?" she asked with genuine curiousity. "I called six months ago about a broken light and nothing. You've been to my apartment once and now I've got thug proof security on my front stoop." She paled. "You didn't have a security system installed did you?" Her eyebrows were raised really high in shock.

"No," I said quickly. "But that's a really good idea, actually."

"Don't even go there, Masen. You've got the market cornered on heavy-handed already."

"You still won't call me by my first name?" I asked her in disappointment.

She didn't address the name thing at all and instead redirected me to the issue of the custodial project. "The janitor, Masen? I need you to focus, here." She had a look of a school teacher humoring a small child on her face.

"Something needed to be done," I said raising my hand to gesture toward the front of the apartment. "Your lock was the kind easily subdued by a credit card and a little wiggling. The whole complex needs adequate lighting, actually. The fire extinguisher issue? I think you're one step away from living in a slum, Isabella. Home Depot opens at 6AM. I bought the light fixture and the locks myself and had a little chat with your building manager. In exchange for my generous hardware donation to the facility, he agreed to get fire extinguishers installed today and to inquire about updating the lighting around the whole complex."

"And he just did it? Just like that?" She seemed baffled. "I've mentioned that burned out light every time that I pay my rent." She chuckled. "Did you really clean out my fridge?"

She shimmied out of bed, fully awake now. After rummaging in her closet for clothing, she ducked into the bathroom to shower.

"I'll be out in ten minutes; then you can tell me what we're doing, ok?"

The door slid closed, and I was left sitting on her bed. In two seconds flat my face was buried in her pillow, drinking in that inimitable scent that was entirely her. I couldn't place what it was. Maybe it was some kind of fancy perfume or lotion? It just smelled… clean…and warm and soft.

_Shit. I am such a pansy. Stop rolling around in her sheets and be less pathetic. _

I got up to walk through her apartment once more. There was a distinctive absence of photographs of a personal nature. She had Ansel Adams photography in the living area and framed poetry quotations in her bedroom, but not a single solitary family photo.

_Huh._

The rooms were sparsely decorated, almost spartan. There were no other knickknacks or useless homey belongings-no flowers in her home anywhere.

_A girl as lovely as she should have flowers in every room. I'll have to get her to tell me if she's allergic to posies or if she even likes flowers, and what kind she likes. _

She stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed rubbing something into her face. Her hair was still damp, but combed into a side part. She wore a t-shirt that said, 'Wash. Rinse. Repeat.' in white letters on a bright green background. Her jeans were blue this time, and she was barefoot.

"We have some research to do and then we're going to have lunch together. Is there anything you don't like to eat?"

Her eyes looked up to the ceiling as she pondered my question.

"I don't like gyro meat, but Greek food usually has many options. I don't like okra in any form whatsoever, but okra is not that common. So our options are endless - at least for me. What are your dislikes by the way?"

"I'll go to great lengths to avoid mayonnaise," I revealed slowly. Something was pressing on the edge of my memory - something I needed to tease her about. "So Isabella…"

"Bella." She corrected me quietly.

"Bella then," I said, wrapping my tongue around the letters. "When I suck that bag of dicks, do I suck them one at a time?"

She coughed and began laughing.

"Are they real dicks or are they made of silicone…?"

Her grin was so wide and genuine I felt a matching grin spread across my face, but I continued.

"Do I have to do a full on blowjob or just a quick suck and then move on…?"

She rolled her eyes at me and stood there patiently while I worked out the subtle nuances of her irate rant.

"You never told me why you chose a bag of dicks instead of some other sort of container. Is it a Ziploc bag or an over the shoulder…?"

Her fingers were pressing over my mouth and more laughter sputtered out of her bright pink lips and bright pink face.

_Fuck. She just touched my face without prompting! Score one for me!_

"Obviously you've seen Louis CK, before," she said while inhaling a deep breath from laughing so hard.

"Who doesn't watch Comedy Central late at night?" I asked rhetorically.

"So research, huh? Does this pertain to our…project?" She queried; dead right of course.

"Operation MBC? Yes." I said mysteriously.

"You've already named our project?" she said with some shock.

"Well I didn't stay up all night testing acronyms if that's what you mean." A chuckle escaped me.

"Are you going to tell me what MBC stands for?"

"In time. Would you like to work on one of our items before we go? There's no rush, of course. We would back up and review previous content first…so it would start out really familiar. You wouldn't have to do anything new unless you want to. I'll tell you what MBC stands for when you conquer new territory. Incentives are a good thing, I think."

"Previous content" she said slowly. She walked forward and placed both of her hands in mine. She looked up to my forehead from her diminutive stature. I started to lean down when she stopped me mid-lean. She bit her lip and placed her toes on top of my Vans giving her another two inches. My hands were still held by hers so I couldn't use my arms to give her a boost. She ditched holding onto me, and placed both of her hands on my cheeks. Her breathing was shallow and rapid. She closed her eyes and let her breathing return to a more normal pace. I pressed my own arms behind my back to keep me from getting in the way at all. She drew my head down towards her a little. Her lips brushed my forehead in the ritual from last night. She returned a second time to press her lips more firmly. I told her not to forget to breathe. She let out another of those big rushes of suspended air and she looked right into my eyes.

"Would you like to put your arms around my waist?" she asked me shyly. "That counts as something new right?"

My heart began to ache from the reality of this girl - this sweet, hurt, wonderful girl - actually asking me to put my big paws on her.

"If we've never done it before, no matter how small a step it is; it's new content," I told her while unclasping my hands from where I'd been holding onto the back of my belt. My arms moved slowly just barely grazing the sides of her torso. She jerked a little bit at my touch.

_Go slowly, Edward. Don't fuck this up. _

My hands slid around to her back, neither straying north or south at all. I rubbed my palms up and down from the top of her jeans up to her shoulder blades and back down again.

"How's this?" I asked, gazing into her warm brown eyes. Our bodies weren't touching. I longed to press into her, but let her set the pace instead. She gently laid her arms along top of mine with her hands cupping over my shoulders.

"We're embracing," she said with a little bit of a surprised look on her face. Her right hand left my arm to settle on top of her chest. "My heart rate is a little elevated, but I'm not freaking out. Maybe my PTSD isn't as bad as I think it is."

I unwillingly removed my arms from around her waist and drew her over to the futon sofa in her living area. We sat down comfortably next to each other while I thought about a theory I'd been chewing on since last night.

"What if your PTSD was exacerbated by the dickwads you dated? I think you have the potential to be healthy, but the loser magnet part of you kept unfortunately putting shitheads in your path."

"Do you normally swear this much?" she wondered aloud.

"Only in terms of thinking of those…..I can't even call them men. What they did to you, even unknowingly was so callous, so disgusting and unchivalrous as to be amazing. James is some kind of psycho rapist, Mike is a liar, an assault artist, and an abandoning fuck. I'm not eager to hear about the other two losers, but I'm eager to know what you've been through as a means to knowing you more." A sigh escaped me. "Are you ready to share about loser number two?"

She got up and walked over to her desk in the corner. Pulling open a drawer she got out some kind of spongy ball. She placed it in my hand and began her story. I squeezed the stress ball to hell and back while she told me about the mindfuck that was Erik Yorkie.

"He was at this Seattle area dance club. I was there with my friend Angela and her boyfriend Ben. I don't have a lot of dancing experience. You've seen how clumsy I am. Anything involving graceful movement I generally avoid. So I get the nerve up to dance. I liked the song that was playing and I've danced to it before in my bedroom. I figured if I kept my feet from moving too much I would stay upright. So Erik starts dancing with me, and before I know it… he's …. he's…"

Tears pooled in her eyes and she hung her head a little.

"It's not even that bad a thing, I'm just re-experiencing the mortification I felt because it happened in front of so many people."

"Take all the time you need," I intoned gently. Her hand reached over and grasped one of mine.

_Involuntary touch number two! _

I did a little happy dance in my mind.She was distracting herself by tracing the shapes of my fingernails. Finally she continued.

"He latched onto my ass and wouldn't let go. He was still dancing even though I was frozen with a feeling of disgust, I guess. Like Mike, he didn't really look me in the face. His eyes roamed all over my body making me feel sick inside. I could feel the panic welling up inside me. I must have said 'let me go' about ten times. He said something about my ass being luscious and called me babe. I think he was squeezing my butt and telling me to calm down when I lost it. I don't remember what happened next because I hyperventilated again and then passed out. When I came to, what seemed like the whole dance club was staring at me. Someone had called the paramedics. It's standard procedure to take someone to the hospital if they pass out while exerting. The club owner wanted to make sure I was okay. The doctors ran tests to make sure I had normal heart function even though I told them it was just a panic attack… my problem ruined the night for my friends, and I became a freak show to half of Seattle's youth. I haven't been dancing since then."

She took a deep breath and looked up at me. I rolled my head on my shoulders releasing some of the tension. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the futon couch. We didn't feel the need to talk or fill the silence.

After a few moments I began to speak. "There's really nothing I can say on behalf of my gender that could make up for how very insensitive and cruel these males have been. I think it takes a certain kind of person to reign in those horribly selfish impulses. That's what I think those were, Bella. They were never, ever, thinking about you and what you needed. A good person doesn't behave that way. A decent person knows better than that – does not objectify you as some kind of squeeze toy. Even a well trained dog has the sense not to jump all over you." I shook my head in disgust.

"I can tell that you're not like that, Edward.

_She said my name! _

"In fact, I think you're good for me," she said with a touch of wonder in her voice. "You've managed to make some sense out of something that has bothered me for a long time."

"Bella, all I can do is promise not to act and then think later. Every moment that I'm with you, I will be thinking first, running all my decisions by you, and only taking any kind of action with your consent. In fact, I'd prefer ideas about how we interact come from you. I promise not to betray your body, your heart, or your mind – and that includes lying or any kind of deceit." My heart was pounding at what I was about to do next. The promise I had just made her was swelling in my mind until it was the only thing I could think about.

_You promised not to lie to her. Tell her now; she needs to know. If you tell her now, and she freaks out and runs, you could probably still get her back. If you don't tell her for weeks, she is going to feel like every thing you've ever said to her was a complete and utter lie. Tell her now! Man up! Grow a pair…Emmett will tear you a new one if you don't get this out there in the first weekend. _

I took a deep breath. "I have to tell you something. I don't think it's too horrible, but I'm still not eager to tell you."

"Edward, don't be scared. I think you can tell me just about anything at this point. Nothing you say can be as bad as pulling a Newton or a Yorkie. Whatever it is has to be miniscule by comparison" she said reassuringly.

"Okay. You know the doctor's office where we met? I really was going there for therapy. I meet my dad once a month for scheduled appointments. I really am sexually screwed up. I really have failed sexually at every relationship I've ever had. However, there is one small detail that you need to know so you don't think I've deceived you later. Dr. McCarty? He told me two things about you before we met. He told me you'd been hurt by a guy before, no details of course. He would never break doctor/client confidentiality - ever. He also told me that you attend UCLA. When we met in that office, you still had all choice available to you. If you had said no about getting a drink with me, I would have left you alone forever. I'm not some insane stalker, I swear."

She was really quiet - digesting all of this new information with a blank expression on her face. My stomach cramped up in anxiety.

_Is this too weird for her? Will she reject me and kick me to the curb? God, please let her understand. I'm already in too deep. Who knew she would be so sweet and wonderful and totally perfect for me?_

A heavy feeling settled into my chest and my legs were beginning to feel like lead. I shifted uncomfortably on the couch mentally preparing myself to leave if need be.

_Can you walk out of here and respect her wishes if she asks you to? Ask her if she's ready to hear the last part. Go on, ask her._

"Bella? Are you okay?"

"I'm all right, I'm not freaking out too bad. I'm just reliving all of our interactions in light of what you just told me." She looked over at me. "Are you still you? Do you still like me? This isn't some kind of horrible pity mindfuck is it?"

My heart started to ache inside my chest at the ghastly thought of what she'd just said. "No. No. No. Don't think that at all. Pity has no place here. There was something about you in that office the first time. I was compelled. I couldn't _not_ talk to you. You were holding that stupid cat magazine and snickering to yourself, and I was dying to know what was going on in that beautiful head of yours. And then you stood next to the O'Keeffe painting and said something else. You're brilliant, Bella. When I noticed that you got all of the hidden stupidly ironic things about that room, I knew you had to be mine. There is a clever wit about you that is so appealing to me." I took a breath and gathered my thoughts to explain the other half of what I had to say.

"Anyhow, there is more. The worst of what I had to tell you is over. Dr. McCarty? Emmett - he's my adoptive older brother, and Dr. Carlisle is my adoptive dad. Apparently when Emmett read your file last week, there was something about your story that moved him in some way. He phoned Dr. Pfeiffer and asked him a little bit about you. Dr. Pfeiffer said you were one of the nicest people he's ever met, and that you were a really great girl. Emmett called me that day. He said, now let me get this straight… 'Would you be interested in meeting a really great girl?' I was surprised… I mean Emmett hadn't even met you yet. Weird, right? Your appointment was also on the exact same day as my appointment. I talked myself into believing that there would be nothing there at all. I'd go; talk to my dad; be un-amazed by you; and then I'd leave. You bowled me over Bella. You're still bowling me over." I didn't dare look at her as she digested my confession. I wasn't sure that she could deal with the odd circumstances of my brother's actions.

"Well," she said finally. "It is a lot to digest at once, but you haven't really done anything other than get me to talk to you right? I mean, there's no 'save bella dot com' website somewhere? I'm not being punk'd, right?"

_I want to hug her right now so badly, but it would be the wrong move and she might tense up. _

I reached over to tentatively hold her hand and chuckled. "No, of course not, silly. No one knows what we know except for you and me. By the way, what was Emmett's assignment for you? He told me he was going to push you in my direction, but that ultimately all decisions were still yours."

"He told me to say yes to two things I would ordinarily decline."

I thought back to all the decisions she'd had to make over the last day or so. "What were the two things you said yes to?"

"I said yes to going with you for a drink, and I said yes to holding your hand in front of that dress store. There were other yeses along the way, but those are the two important ones in my mind."

"So giving me your phone number wasn't hard and kissing me last night wasn't difficult?" I was puzzled by her reasoning. What was I missing?

"By the time you asked to exchange phone numbers, uh excuse me, growled at me to hand over my phone - I really wanted to do that already. That wasn't a thing I had to agonize over. Going with you in the first place was a calculated risk on my part. After all, we have established that I'm a loser magnet. Part of me was worried that I would get disappointed again. I was on the point of giving up, remember? Asexual worm girl? That's me. I would hate to fail yet again. And there's always the possibility of a stupid panic attack for no reason. I never seem to know what exactly is going to set me off. As to the other thing you mentioned - the kiss thing. "Well..." She began to blush profusely. _What could possibly make her so shy all of the sudden?_

"I really wanted to do that, too."

My heart melted into a puddle of mush at her feet.

_She totally owns me. _

**AN: If you haven't already Youtubed the sidesplitting comedy routine that is Louis CK, you're missing out on a very funny "suck a bag of dicks" bit. I wish that was me. It's not. My husband and I say that to each other all the time now. Sometimes we vary the container, but the general idea remains the same…**

**Sorry folks, I can't disclose the meaning of MBC until back in Bella's POV. You're welcome to guess in a private email to me, but please don't spoil the reveal for everyone else…**

**We'll have to get to the research phase in the next chapter. This one got too long. **

**If you read anything that you liked, please review-no matter how small the post.**


	5. Research & Recovery

**AN: This chapter deals with sexual assault. If this is painful for you to read for any reason, feel free to skip ahead. All the research I've been reading urges you to seek counseling no matter how much time has elapsed since an assault. Any mistakes on my part are in no way meant to diminish the personal experience of someone who has actually gone through something like this. **

**Stephanie Meyer owns a groundbreaking series of young adult fiction called **_**The Twilight Saga**_**. I own some handcrafted Mexican leather sandals from the swap meet. **

From Chapter 4:

"I really wanted to do that, too."

My heart melted into a puddle of mush at her feet.

_She totally owns me. _

Chapter 5

Research and Recovery

BPOV

He was gazing at me with those green eyes, and I had to look away because I was afraid he would know how much of a hold he had over me. The thought of how much he could hurt me made me shiver. It was one thing to fail with Mike or Erik, or Tyler; it was something entirely different to disappoint Edward. I actually care what he thinks about me. Those other guys were just asshats that managed to get a little of my time.

_If this doesn't work with Edward then I'm done with this nonsense. Maybe some are simply not meant to be happy this way. He deserves someone whole and complete and wonderful. I'm partially formed and broken and dismal. _

My eyes were starting to sting.

_God! If only I didn't want this so much. If only he was just some guy. _

_No…If Edward was just some guy you certainly wouldn't be here._

"What are you thinking right now?" he asked me softly.

"I was thinking that I never got my incentive from our earlier…escapade." I felt my cheeks begin to heat again.

_Dammit!_

"If a couple of clumsy kisses and a rather quick embrace can be called an escapade," I muttered in a very low voice. "So tell me what Operation MBC stands for."

To my utter shock and surprise _he_ began to blush and look chagrined. "It seemed like a good idea to call it this in the wee hours of the morning when I drove to Home Depot, but in hindsight-it may have been insensitive of me to give our project this moniker. Promise you won't be offended? I meant nothing slimy I swear."

He crossed his two fingers over his heart like a boy scout.

"Operation Make Bella Come." His head dropped to his chest, and he leaned over, waiting to hear some kind of angry rant on my part. Or so I assumed. "We can change it if you want. Hell, we don't need some stupid title for this. It's rather juvenile of me, I suppose."

I leaned over and kissed his cheek with a quick peck. His head flew up. His eyes were really wide.

"You're not mad?" he said quickly.

"Why would I be mad?" I asked genuinely puzzled. "Uh… have you shared this random thought with an entire locker room full of swaggering teenage boys?"

Now he looked puzzled. "Of course not…oh, I get it now. As long as it's just the two of us I can be ridiculous and you're not going to get mad at me?"

"Well please don't see this as a golden pass to become something other than the delightful person I've come to be familiar with, but yes. Another reason that I'm not mad at you is that this is kind of what we agreed to yesterday, right? We just didn't use a porno word to express our end goal."

I snickered a little bit and rolled my eyes at him. "Emmett must be rubbing off on you." I laughed in earnest now.

He looked both shocked and amazed by my last comment. "How on earth do you know that my totally professional-while-working-older brother is a completely unrepentant perv when he's off the clock?" The look on his face was worth all of my blushes combined over the last two days.

I quickly explained Emmett's moment of humor when he broke the tension with the sex toy and whip comment in his office yesterday. Edward laughed out loud and said, "Gosh he really must like you as a person to let down his guard even that much in front of a patient. You could totally ream him for harassment for something like that."

At this point my unruly stomach chose to growl loudly.

"I really should feed you. It's not fair to spend the whole morning in your apartment on this horrible futon! Where did you get this despicable thing?"

"Demeaning my furniture is not a good way to get into my panties, Masen," I declared with perfect ease, getting off the couch. I calmly grabbed my purse and keys. He was leaning over- laughing on my maligned futon when I mussed up his hair. "Come on you cute sexual deviant, you." I summoned up my best drunken Asian voice possible and said, "The Donger need food!" His man-giggles stopped and he looked at me with a weird expression.

"Oh sheezus, Masen. Please tell me that you've seen the movie Sixteen Candles!" He stood up, straightening his clothes and grabbing his lightweight jacket.

"Why would I have seen a chic flick that predates my existence? My car, okay?" We walked out of my apartment after fiddling with my new locks for a minute.

"We'll have to make that movie a consequence for the next time you go all caveman on me."

He opened the door to his silver Volvo and helped me inside.

"Hey! Can we go to the chicken place?" I said once he had settled into his seat.

"There's a place called, 'The Chicken Place?'" he asked dubiously.

"It's in Santa Monica and I think it's called The California Chicken Café or something like that. It's over by the BMW dealership on Sunset? I may have the street wrong, but I can get you there by tree echo location."

"Okay," he said drawing out the word. "…so two things. Why do you call it the chicken place if you know the name of the restaurant? And also... hey, I'm not done," he interjected when I started to answer. "What the hell is tree echo location?"

"We never used to remember the name of the place! So we'd spend time describing the food… 'Do you remember that place? You know, the one with the to-die-for chicken?' we would say…It sort of stuck. As to the other, my friend Alice and I never can remember the name of streets and such. We, as all beings should, drive by landmark - most notably trees. Echo location is our most favorite animal skill that we both wish we had. Dolphins, whales, and bats can tell where they are by bouncing sound waves off of other objects… you know what I'm talking about, right? Turn left when you get to the giant spruce tree up ahead."

He turned obediently, but looked at me like I had two heads. "What on earth do you do if there's an act of nature or the city decides to cut down a tree?"

"Well, there are almost never full-scale tornadoes or serious hurricanes in Southern California - that would level a town, right?" I could tell he was having a hard time following my bizarre ping pong mind. "The city never cuts down _all_ the trees at the same time. At most, they alter a lane and even the absence of a beloved tree is cause for much anger on my and Alice's part-so we still manage to bitch and gripe about the loss of the tree, and somehow we always seem to get where we need to go. You're just jealous because you don't have tree echo location!"

"Bella! Neither do you!" he said, laughing with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Turn right at the end of Eucalyptus Lane here."

"Oh My Holy Moses, Bella?! You rename the streets according to the trees? You need a keeper!"

"Are you volunteering for the job? And you know, after less than a weekend you're already starting to sound like me. You just said Holy Moses to avoid taking the Lord's name in vain. Do you think the other Bible people will be pissed off to have had their names misused…? Sometimes I worry about that."

He just shook his head at me. "Is that the place up ahead there? Yellow awning?"

"Yup. There's parking in the back if you just drive a little bit past the strip here." He reached into the back seat and took a folder off the floor. He held it up and said, "Research."

We ordered; he paid; and waited while the food was prepared in front of us in an open kitchen, and then found a booth in the back corner. "Eat _with_ research discussion or eat and research discussion kept separate?" he asked as he crunched on a garlic pita crouton.

"Um… let's keep the two separate. Eat first."

We quickly made short work of the excellent food at the café. I must have used four hundred napkins. He even had to go back to get more napkins and barbecue sauce for me.

After he cleared the table of all the remains of lunch and we'd both washed our hands and refilled our drinks, he took out a sheaf of papers. Some were unread; some were highlighted with little marks in the margin.

"When did you have time to do this?" I asked in puzzlement.

"It's easy to make time when you have obsessive compulsive sexual tendencies."

"Hardy-Har-Har." I said acerbically. "Internet research is not sexually obsessing, Edward."

"It is when the goal of said research is to get into your panties," he said nonchalantly. His words did something strange to me.

_Ugh… what is this__? I feel a tremor in my toes that moves up my legs and settles in__ my……..lady parts? OH. MY. GOD. I'm getting turned on! Holy shit, Batman. __They work! Ohmygod__ ohmygod ohmygod. _

"Uh… Edward?" I said in wonder.

"I know. I know. I shouldn't have said that."

"No. Edward?" I tried again

He held out his hand, "Spank my hand. I've been very bad." I could only stare at him, utterly speechless.

_Spank. He just asked me to spank him? _

I looked down in horror as my nipples started to tighten in the seamless cups of my Victoria's Secret bra for the first time in my life. I squeezed my eyes shut and started to sweat in a little bit of anxiety and a little bit of embarrassment.

_I'm like a 12 year old kid who doesn't know how to deal with __special 'feelings.' Oh shit. I'm a fucking ABC after school special! What was that one I watched years ago? "Johnny Came Home?" _

_The title of my ABC After School Special would be__, "Bella Came Home." _

_No Scratch that. "Bella Came Home and Her Panties Got Wet."_

"Bella? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

"Can you get me the hell out of here? I need to tell you something in the car." I looked at him meaningfully, willing him to understand that we needed to go.

_Now!_

His eyebrows rose. He grabbed the keys, jackets, research and my hand in the other. He had me back in the passenger side of the car in record time. Turning to look at me carefully, he sat there patiently waiting for me to get it together.

"Well," I said in a strangled voice. "I know I'm not frigid."

"Of course you're not frigid Bella. I can tell that you are a very sweet and loving…" his voice trailed off as he got a very concentrated look in his eyes. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" he asked in a strangled voice as well.

"I think what I feel is arousal. I've never felt this before!" My hands gesticulated wildly as I struggled to express my confusion. "How the hell should I know what's normal? It was a flash of something and it was quick. I don't think I'm feeling it anymore, but it was very pronounced when we were in there."

"I'm absolutely dying to know what set you off." He turned to look at me, his eyes intense. "But I'm also struggling to do things in order here." One of his hands went to the back of his head and pulled at his hair a little bit. "We didn't really even get to the research, Bella. With some effort we could probably get you aroused again, but what if I trigger something? We haven't even spoken about exactly what happened with James yet. I don't want the first time we explore new content to end in tears and horrible nightmare flashbacks or even a hyperventilation or fainting episode. I don't want to do any long term damage. Yes, I've got my eyes on the prize, but I can wait to do this right." He finished his speech and took one of my hands in his.

"I want a session," I said stubbornly.

_You can't expect me to just ignore this for a while._

"Bella…," he groaned in a low voice. "You are not going to skip ahead on anything! Do you hear me? I won't have it."

"Okay Papa Bear. Sheesh! You sound like my father."

"Trust me. My feelings are not fatherly right now." His laughter sounded painful, strained even. I wasn't very experienced with men, but he sounded like he…

_Huh. Is__ turning someone on reciprocal? Are we all just a bunch of hormonal dominoes hyping each other up?_

I was still thinking about that one when we reached a beautifully lit Spanish style complex of apartments. It was aptly named 'Villa Estates: One and Two Bedroom Apartment Homes.' He parked in a numbered spot under a covered carport and turned toward me again.

"We are going to go into my living room on the black leather couch and we're going to read the damned research," he practically growled at me. "Then you're going to tell me about that parasite James. It's going to effectively kill any kind of romantic mood that you have. After that we are going to try kissing. No clothes are coming off. We also need to establish a safe word. Shoot, I should have said that first." He muttered in frustration. "Safe word established before kissing. Okay, Swan? I need you to agree with me here. I can't do this alone. I have issues, too, you know."

"Okay," I said in a small voice. He was right. He helped me out of the car and we walked hand in hand up the paved, lit path towards his unit. All too soon, I was on that black leather couch. It was buttery leather and super soft. The most helpful page of the research, the one he'd read and highlighted last night turned out to be the most relevant to our situation. Formatted into a list, I was actually able to identify some of my own behavioral patterns in writing. I took out a pink highlighter from my purse, and marked the things that pertained to me. The paragraphs that followed explained some of the different reasons for what is called fight or flight response to stimulus induced traumatic regression. I read some of the other paragraphs about post traumatic stress disorder as it pertains to sexual assault. At the end of my review I had the following things marked:

*need to stop foreplay for no "apparent" reason

*nausea or vomiting before, during, or after sexual activity

*panic attacks at sudden triggers

*nightmares and unexplained waking in the night; insomnia

*Being startled by the sound or sudden appearance of another

Edward had gone into the kitchen to make some tea, obviously in a thoughtful display of giving me some space to read through the material.

"Take a look at this when you come back in here" I hollered at him from my perch on the couch. I had my feet curled up under me.

_His place is comfortable. It's not the typical guy bachelor pad. It's clean and…classy. There's nothing weird here. Thank God he's not a slob. _

He walked into the room carrying two mugs of steaming green mint hot tea and set them down on the glass part of his coffee table. He kicked off his shoes and gestured towards my own feet. I pressed my legs towards him allowing him to remove my shoes for me. After he'd pulled them off my feet, I curled back up again. He sat next to me and read the list.

"Vomiting? That has to suck for you. I absolutely _hate_ the feeling of throwing up. It's the out of control feeling that gets to me. Your body betrays you."

"What you're describing is actually how I feel about panic attacks. I really, really want my arms or my legs, my lungs, or my vocal chords to obey me, but they don't. It's like I'm watching myself from far away, and there's nothing I can do." He digested what I'd said, and took a sip of the hot tea before replacing the mug on the table.

"What did you think about the article on safe words? We could go the typical route and use the green, yellow, red system." He said looking at me for my input.

"I actually liked the other one used at the middle of the article where you pick a word that has meaning to you both and it essentially means 'stop.' If I need you to slow down or speed up or whatever - I'd rather just talk to you instead of trying to remember too many words. Who knows what I'll actually say in the moment, right? Just the fact that we read these articles and have a clue about what we're getting into means we're already better off than we were forty minutes ago."

He picked up my hand and kissed me on the inside of my wrist. I waited for a negative reaction – anything that felt disharmonious, and I felt nothing but warm feelings of affection toward him.

_Does my body know instinctively to trust him, or is my mind choosing to trust him based on his actions thus far?_

"Tell me about James."

"Ugh. Do I have to?" I whined.

"Yes, Bella. That episode contains valuable information about how you are….affected by the past. I refuse to go forward with anything until I know how he hurt you. I don't want to duplicate anything that he did. I'm pretty sure everything he did is going to be a trigger for you. Would you honestly have me go blindly into this?"

Once again he was indisputably right.

_Ok. Here goes._

I took a deep breath for courage, and tried to be matter of fact in my recitation. "My mother remarried after several years elapsed from her original divorce. Charlie is my Dad. He died two years ago. I'll speak of Charlie at another time. My mother's second husband is named Phil. Phil has a son named James. When my mother and Phil moved in together, James was a senior in high school. I was a freshman. I went to one of those catholic schools where they make you dress in a plaid skirt and a white button down blouse? James began to corner me around campus after school. It was under the auspices of 'driving me home'. I didn't know how to deal with his attention. I didn't know whether to be flattered or repelled. I think I was a little of both. Given, I didn't know his character at all, and he was putting on an act for me. It was the last day before spring break, and it must have been ninety-five degrees that day. I was leaving the school with Alice. She had 'tarted me up' or so she said. Basically, she had tied my white blouse in a knot under my chest and rolled up my skirt a little. We thought it was funny. I feel so stupid when I think back on it now." I took a deep breath. The difficult part was coming up.

"James called to me from a hallway as I walked by with Alice. He offered to drive me home because Alice had a dentist's appointment and couldn't drop me. I thought nothing of it. God, I was so stupid. Later, I had this little feeling that maybe this was weird, but I ignored it."

"James didn't drive to the house. He drove to a park in our neighborhood. That should have been my first clue that something was up."

I took a shuddering breath and reached up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind my ear. My hand was trembling, and I felt the sting of tears in my eyes.

"He started talking about how sexy I looked. His hand was rubbing up and down on my knee. I pressed my knees together and started to feel really awful about how we had altered my clothes. I untied the knot on the shirt and started re-buttoning it the normal way. He said something like, 'Awww don't be that way', and then this look flashed in his eyes. He said, "You know you want me, Bella."

"I was shocked. I immediately felt guilty and I didn't know why. Now, I know that I wanted his attention, his friendship. I wanted him to like me because he was becoming my step brother. He pressed the power lock on the door and ripped my blouse open." Brushing away the tears from my cheeks, I continued.

"He started squeezing me…uh…" I gulped, remembering, "…up top, really hard. I wasn't ready for anything like that. I didn't know how to tell him to calm down. I was just scared out of my head that he was going to actually rape me. Before I knew it, his hands were everywhere. I was immobile, but I couldn't figure out why. I was squirming and trying to get away from him when he jammed his hand under my skirt and shoved several fingers inside me. God, it hurt like holy hell. It was rough and unexpected and horribly agonizing - nothing like what I'm told it's supposed to be."

Edward expelled a huff of breath and pressed his tightly closed lips onto his fist. He was really quiet. He kept his contemplative posture, but reached out to hold my hand.

"Something clicked inside my head at that point. I hit the lock on my side of the car. I shoved the door open so hard, it hit the empty car next to us. I didn't know what to do or where to go. Home was not a good option. James lived in the same location, right? I ran to the neighbor Mrs. Pritchard and blurted out the entire story. She called the cops and they took James away. Phil blamed me for not coming to tell him first. My mother's second marriage broke up because of me. She and I don't really talk much any more. My dad died of coronary artery disease a few years later. I don't really have anyone but Alice. She still struggles with horrible guilt for having altered my clothes on that day, as if that should really matter. And that's the whole sordid tale."

He squeezed my hand once and then rose from the couch, the heels of his hands pressed to his eyes. I watched him as he paced for a few minutes, clearly upset. It appeared as though the muscles in his back and neck were tensed up, and I almost felt the need to go and comfort him, but I stayed where I was and let him deal with his thoughts on his own. I took a moment to wipe at the tears that were streaming down my face.

"You are able to relate that surprisingly well, Bella. I think you're doing better than I am." he said in a strained voice, his hands shaking. He held them up to show me. "Do you think you could handle it if I hold you? I don't know if you need it, really. I'm just... my arms are aching to try to erase some of that hellish experience."

He walked back to the couch and resettled. He held his arms open from the other end of the sofa, and I crawled into his lap, my knees flopping over one of his legs and my cheek settling on his warm chest. He kissed the top of my hair and rubbed my back up and down. My eyes wandered over the room as I struggled to get my breathing back to a reasonable rate. He took a few deep breaths as well. We were slowly coming down from that excruciating memory.

"Is this okay? You don't feel trapped or anything?"

"No. It's fine. Your arms are really loose, and I'm getting the sense that you'd rather shoot off your left toe rather than hurt me."

A few moments passed while I took in the end table, lamp, and window before me. I absorbed the details of the pieces without really being aware of it.

"Why my left toe?" he questioned with a silly look in his eyes. I smacked him weakly in the arm.

"You know what really pissed me off?" I said broaching something else. "James was charged with sexual assault. He didn't even go away for rape because technically he didn't rape me. But for years I've been as screwed up as though _I was _raped. He…. he…." I sniffled. "It really wasn't fair, you know? The tears began to fall in profusion.

My hand went up to cover my mouth as ugly sobs started tearing out of my chest.

_Now I can cry?__What the hell? Go figure. I make it through the entire recitation of what happened to me. He rubs my back a little bit and I lose it. Great going, Swan. _

Edward kissed my temple and kept rubbing my back in the lightest hand possible. He let me cry it out for a few minutes, without saying anything, his hands continuing to rub circles on my back.

"Do you think you can get me a tissue? I think I've soaked your shirt and my dose isht shtarting to run," I said sniffling.

He was gone for a minute and then I watched him walk down the hallway, sliding into a clean light blue shirt. He held a box of tissues. My eyes unwittingly drank in the planes of his smooth chest. He was about to start buttoning up his shirt, when I stopped him. I threw my used tissue on the ground.

_That feeling… oh geeze__…. Okay, think__ Bella…what is making that swervy feeling spiral through your midsection? _

He did up a button. "Stop that! I need a moment. Can you just sit there, Edward?" Nonplussed, he sat very still and just looked at me.

"Can I…..?" I gestured towards his sculpted chest and he looked down at himself and then at me. His eyebrows shot straight up and his jaw clenched. Gripping the sofa along the back and the armrest, he let me explore his chest. My fingers hesitant, my heart pounding, I ghosted my fingertips over his skin.

"Hold very still" I said, my heart thudding in my ears. I leaned my cheek against his warm skin. He smelled of something clean and citrusy.

_Warmth. Heat. Something exquisite is taking residence in me. Restless. Twitchy. Gosh, I want something more, but I don't know how to ask for it. _

I could hear his heart pounding against his ribcage. Gently, but with fingers and arms of steel, he pressed me away back onto my side of the couch and walked to the other side of the room. He had his back turned to me and he did up the buttons on his shirt. He pressed his head against the wall and stood there - his hands in the back pockets of his jeans for a few minutes. Eventually he came back to the couch and sat next to me. "Well we seem to have broken the no nakedness rule a little bit. As long as you're not freaking out, we're okay right?"

"How about you, Edward?" I looked into his eyes to try and read him. "Is this getting… uh... painful? Should we stop?"

_Please say no. Please say no. I know I can kiss you. I know it! _

"Safe word," he ground out. "We need to choose one." He began to breathe easier as he was distracted by this topic. "We could use a word from this last weekend. We'd always remember it as part of our early time together."

"Chicken," was his contribution. He said it quickly.

"Venti," was mine.

"Goat's milk," he chuckled.

"Croissant," I muttered. "Okay. That's enough brainstorming. Which one feels right?"

"Honestly? None of them. I think we should stay far, far away from food and animals. You don't even want to know where the crude, vulgar part of me went with those words."

Now I was intrigued. They seem like pretty harmless words. "Okay, Edward. It's time for you to share some of your inner perv with me. 'Fess up. I'll laugh _with _you."

"Okay. But you asked." He rolled his eyes at me. "Chicken… as in choke the chicken… I really don't want you yelling out chicken when I have to stop kissing your neck. It's going to feel like chicken punishment." I snickered. He continued. "Venti… a reference to size. Sorry, but that's another ding to my chicken."

Laughter bubbled up inside of me. "Venti….." _gasp_ "Chicken!"

I lost it again to the naughty giggles. Tears were streaming down my face again, but this time for an entirely different reason. I was surprised I hadn't dried up at this point from tear induced dehydration.

"Goat's milk – I can't even tell you that one."

"Croissant - as in I want to put my chicken in your croissant. I'm telling you! We really need to stay away from food and animals when it comes to the safe word." We were both laughing at this point.

We ran out of ridiculously lame sex jokes and just stared at each other allowing our normal equilibrium to return.

"Custodian," I threw out there. "A custodian takes care of things. He keeps things safe. He carefully tends to things and has all the right tools to get the job done. Okay, so that last part was a little bit sexual, but overall it reminds you to take care of me, instead of seeing to your own needs. It reminds me that you're not the enemy. You're the custodian of my heart."

_Oh God. I took it too far. Shit. Shit. _

His hand reached out for mine. He laced our fingers together.

"That was beautiful Bella. Well done. We now have a safe word. And If I need to get rid of a raging hard-on, I'll just imagine John the custodian naked - and that should help kill it for me."

He did something to the coffee table so that it was closer to the couch. "Come here." he requested softly. "Sit your butt right there, please." He tapped the edge of the coffee table, and I perched there, wondering why I couldn't be on the cushy couch with him. "This will give me a little distance, and you your own separate space on the coffee table. This is going to sound weird, but I'm going to literally sit on my hands so I can't use them. You however have never gotten to really enjoy a kiss before, so we won't do anything like that to you. Pucker up, Swan."

He waited for me to look up at him, my cheeks burning crimson as usual. When our eyes connected, he winked at me just like before. Our knees were touching, but we were still too far apart. His long legs. I scooted forward to more of the edge of the table. I pressed my legs to the left and his legs angled the other way.

We were now a nose distance a part. I closed my eyes. His warm breath washed over my face first before I felt the gentle press of his lips against mine. He did actually pucker up a little bit and rub his lips against me. His lips _caressed_ mine: shaping me, getting my lips to move against his.

_Peter, Andrew, and Matthew the tax collector! But, damn he's good at this…_

Boldened, I took his upper lip between mine and… my hands pressed against the stubble on his cheeks.

_Holy Goat's milk, Batman! So this is what all the fuss is about! _

I pressed my legs together tightly for want of something better to do.The kiss got slower, dampened. Our lips moved together in sync. The first hesitant tip of my tongue was just about to….

He pulled away. He crossed his forearms over his eyes and breathed deeply.

_I should try not to be so greedy. Hey! No panic attack! No safe word used either. Given it was just one fairly chaste kiss…but…Rome wasn't built in a day, right?_

He peeked at me. I must have had a shit eating grin on my face.

"Hey! No panic attack right?" It was as though he remembered this was what we were trying to do here.

"Mission accomplished. We are one step closer to completing our sexual task. Operation MBC is moving right along. Unfortunately… I have to get home. This has been like a vacation from life for the past however many hours. I actually have some laundry to do and some schoolwork to finish up. Will you drive me home, handsome?"

He froze for a second and then simply grabbed his keys and my hand. He was helping me with my windbreaker when I turned to him and said, "Edward."

He pulled both sides of my jacket together, smoothing it over my shoulders. He wasn't looking at me.

_What the hell?_

I thought back through what I'd just said. My mind wandered back through taking a vacation from life and laundry. Finally I stumbled on my request for him to drive me home. That must have done it. It was the same innocent request I'd had to accept from James before he destroyed my trust in half the population on earth.

"Edward."

He was sliding my long hair out of the back of my jacket - making sure every strand was smooth again. Looking more closely, his jaw was tight and he was very quiet like he was thinking about something.

"Are you…thinking about what I told you?" I asked him slowly.

"I'm trying not to, but it's not working," he said with some not quite repressed anger in his voice.

"Try not to dwell on it; that will make you crazy," I said in response.

His hands stopped smoothing my hair and came to rest on my shoulders.

"Edward… " He brought his eyes up slowly until he was looking directly at me. "Thank You." I placed my hands over top of his. "Thank you, that was… the best first kiss a girl could ever ask for. I'm not counting the one from Mike that he forced upon me. This… was something I actually wanted. The fact that I actually want another is entirely because of you, so, thank you. You are starting to give me back something that I thought was lost forever." He didn't say anything for the drive home, but he never let go of my hand.


	6. Doolittle's

**AN: I don't own anything except for the really old USC T-shirt I'm currently sporting. All characters used forthwith will continue to remain hers.**

**A reviewer (Haleyhoo) recommended a song for the previous chapter. If you're into musically inspired reading, check out "Hero/Heroine" by Boys Like Girls. I think it goes with chapter five. I'm not a big seeker of songs while writing; I find it too distracting from the narrative. Unless I can integrate a song into the story, you won't see a recommended song list from me.**

**Thanks to all reviewers…you are seriously cool. To those of you who refuse to review for whatever reason: I hope you get a raging case of psoriasis. J/k. I've always wanted to say that.**

**I'm arranging a huge bouquet of pink carnations and purple iris' for my most excellent Beta TwilightMomofTwo, whom I've christened Mrs. Snarkypants. She is seriously patient with all of my foibles and missteps.**

**Okay. Enough! Back to the previous programming:**

Chapter Six

Doolittle's

A snippet from chapter five to begin:

"Thank you that was… the best first kiss a girl could ever ask for. I'm not counting the one from Mike that he forced upon me. This… was something I actually wanted. The fact that I actually want another is entirely because of you, so, thank you. You are starting to give me back something that I thought was lost forever." He didn't say anything for the drive home, but he never let go of my hand.

EPOV

My blueprints for the Volturi assignment were done. My laundry was done. My drafts for Carlson's class were done. I'd tried to read; TV sucked. The apartment was clean. If I vacuumed again, I'd start to wear out the carpet. I knew I wouldn't sleep tonight. It was a foregone conclusion.

_Shit. How to deal with this? _

If I took care of my… problem… it would just come back in twenty minutes. Did I really want to spend the whole night jerking off? Honestly! There had to be some sort of solution to this…dickhead I'd gotten on my shoulders. I walked over to my phone and texted Carlisle.

FROM EDWARD:

HAVE SAME PROBLEM AS BEFORE. ANY IDEAS?

FROM CARLISLE:

WILL YOU SLEEP TONIGHT OR SKIP SLEEP?

FROM EDWARD:

NO SLEEP

FROM CARLISLE:

LIMIT SELF TO FOUR "ARRIVALS." INTERSPERSE SESSIONS WITH TREADMILL. NEXT TIME THIS HAPPENS, TRY GOING DOWN TO THREE… IF NOT WORKING, GO BACK UP TO FOUR. YOU CAN DO THIS!

FROM EDWARD:

THANKS, DAD.

FROM CARLISLE:

NO PROBLEM, SON.

Carlisle was helping me whittle my number of obsessive compulsive 'arrivals', as we called them, from eight down to four. I really just wanted to be normal at this point. I wanted to be able to sleep next to a woman without tossing and turning and getting pissed off at myself. I wanted to be in a relationship for longer than a month because I fucking scared women away. I wanted to have what everyone else seemed to have without trying so damned hard. Most of all, I wanted to be worthy of being Bella's man. She needed someone who had his shit together.

I wandered into the second bedroom of the apartment, which I had transformed into a small gym at Carlisle's insistence and, settled into a long night of boxing, running, and epic loneliness.

BPOV

Monday dawned in hazy fog as the sun burned off the clouds that plagued not only the sky but my mind.

_Did last night really happen, or was it just a really good dream? For that matter, __did the weekend actually happen? __ How on earth did I get myself from following through on a doctor's visit to where I am now? I need to talk to Alice. When she stops bouncing and giggling, I'll actually get some sense from her. But first I have American Literature with Dr. Dietrich - my favorite class this semester!_

I spent a few hours at the library finishing an assignment when I received a text message from Alice.

_Damn! I forgot to call her…her spidey senses must be tingling. How does __she do__ that?_

FROM ALICE:

WHY HAVEN'T YOU CALLED ME? I'M DYING HERE!

FROM BELLA:

NOT ALL OF US CAN PLAY DRESS UP BARBIE ALL DAY LONG, ALICE. SOME OF US HAVE TO READ AND WRITE STUFF.

FROM ALICE:

NICE BELLA. TELL ME WHAT'S DIFFERENT. I CAN SENSE SOMETHING, BUT I HAVE NO IDEA!

FROM BELLA:

CAN'T TALK TOO MUCH NOW. TRADED SHIFTS WITH EVAN AGAIN AT THE CLINIC. CAN YOU HOLD OUT UNTIL LUNCH ON THURS.?

FROM ALICE:

MIMI'S CAFÉ, LOS FELIZ - THAT'S MAGNOLIA TREE LANE-REMEMBER? 11:30, THURS. CAN'T WAIT! THIS BETTER BE GOOD!

_Yes, Alice. The parking lot of that Mimi's Café is landscaped exclusively with Magnolia trees. Silly Tinkerbell._

I was half an hour early for my job as a veterinarian's assistant. I got this job by sheer determination. The summer before my first semester of college at UCLA, I volunteered my time at a vet clinic for dogs and cats in Santa Monica. Usually those jobs were reserved strictly for students and aspiring vets. My willingness to do any grunt job and my ease with the clients and owners allowed me to get a foot in the door. I still made crap pay, and worked only twenty hours a week, but that was exactly my limit of time away from school. If I tried to work more than twenty hours, I inevitably started to fail my fourth or fifth class.

I set my bag and water bottle in the lockers of the break room when my phone started to buzz- again. Thinking it was Alice, I flipped open my phone, only to find Edward had left me a text. What had to be a full-fledged smile bloomed across my face.

FROM EDWARD:

ANY BOTANICAL ALLERGIES, MS. SWAN?

FROM BELLA:

YOU'RE NOT PRIVY TO MY ALERGIC REACTIONS YET, . TOO PERSONAL.

FROM EDWARD:

SO YOU'LL KISS ME, HOLD MY HAND, AND DISCUSS YOUR PANTIES WITH ME, BUT I CAN'T SEND YOU FLOWERS?

FROM BELLA:

YOU'VE SHOCKED ME, MR. MASEN. APPARENTLY I SUFFER FROM FOOT IN MOUTH DISEASE. PLEASE EXCUSE MY RUDE SASSINESS. OF COURSE YOU CAN! NO ALLERGIES.

EPOV

I was a little nervous when I walked into Doolittle's flower shop was three blocks away from the west end of the UCLA campus. A tiny little shop, it was decorated with framed black and white pictures of Eliza Doolittle selling flowers in Covent Garden from the film 'My Fair Lady'. It smelled green and alive and clean inside. I walked up to the counter to speak to Melody, as her name tag indicated. While I waited for her to finish a phone order, I quickly entered the shop number into my own phone.

"How can I help you, sir?" she said, placing the phone into the cradle. Her calm manner was reassuring.

"Well, I'm sending flowers to a girl who has never received flowers before."

"Do you know what she likes?"

"I'm pretty sure she's open to anything. She's unusual, quirky. Nothing too cliché. Oddly, I think she'd be disappointed by something too obvious."

"Are you familiar with floral symbology, sir?"

"A little. My dad used to buy very odd flowers for my mother. He didn't give her roses on Valentine's Day. He gave her these small purple flowers instead. We used to tease him. They were rather hideous, actually."

"Your dad was a clever man. He was giving your mother passion flowers. I bet his bouquet did just the trick!"

She winked at me and reached over to a clear plastic display case to pull out a printed flier.

"Look this over; see if anything inspires you."

The list was two columns with flowers listed on the left and meanings listed on the right. I scrolled down the meanings column and settled on two words. I took a pencil and circled the two flowers.

"Can you make an arrangement out of these two?"

"You've chosen the Delphinium and the Daisy. Those both come in different colors. May I make a suggestion?"

"Please." I said with relief.

"Go with the pink Delphiniums. They're harder to come by, and I guarantee she'll be surprised at your thoughtfulness. The other flowers, the Daisy, we only have in white today."

"I willingly submit to your more experienced opinion." I said with a chuckle. "Make it look good, and you'll have a loyal customer."

She smiled as she said, "Certainly, sir. Please select any card from these two shelves. The bottom shelf is a little extra. I'll have that arrangement ready in just a minute."

I wandered over to a wall of small cards laid out in orderly rows. I selected a white card with foil trim around the edge. I brought it back to the counter and wondered what to write.

_You don't want to say too much, but you want her to know you put some thought into this. Well, she is beautiful, no harm in letting her know that. I can tell her where these flowers should go. That way she'll know more are coming. _

I managed to get my words written down. Melody, facing the workbench, was adding a shiny white ribbon around the bottom of the arrangement.

"Are you all set? Oh, don't seal that envelope. I still need to put the slips of paper inside."

She pulled out a huge binder filled with plastic sleeves. She seemed to know where to look and retrieved the slips of paper rather rapidly. I obediently handed over the card.

"Would you like our delivery service, or are you planning to…"

"I need them delivered, please."

She handed me a delivery form and a pen, which allowed me to write down all of the necessary information.

_I know her apartment number is 14A and her street address is Weyburn Place. That's in the city of Westwood, and her zip code is the same as mine_

She took the card and placed two small, glossy pieces of paper inside.

"We can open an account for you with a credit card on file, if that interests you."

_It's like she read my mind. How does she know this is going to be one of many trips to this store? Emmett deserves a beer on me for the hint about this place._

"Yes, thank you. That would be very helpful."

I filled out yet another form. After I paid and thanked Melody, I was on my way to class.

BPOV

Tuesday Morning.

Working that extra shift for Evan last night took its toll on me. He was an assistant veterinarian, and while I could not actually perform any of his duties or sign off on his things, I could help out when they needed an extra pair of hands in his absence. Evan's father was in the hospital, so my traded shift became a pickup shift.

Yawning and rubbing my eyes, I prepared to go in again - this time for four hours. I needed to remember to put more cream on the cuts on my arms. Last night was a tense, stressful experience, as I removed thorns from a Russian Blue cat that suffered a run-in with some kind of cactus. Scared and paranoid, Ivan the Terrible, as we called him, had clawed me something fierce. I couldn't really blame him. The steel table _was_ really cold. The tweezers _were_ really long and intimidating. The antibiotic solution _did _sting quite a bit. Hell, if I had claws I'd take someone out, too.

I settled in to do the routine things around the clinic. This freed up the rest of the staff to do other things. I said hello to Wednesday - an evil female kitten who wanted to take out her brother kitten. We're really not supposed to name the kittens en route to the shelter, but I'd never been able to resist acknowledging animal personalities. Buster was a golden retriever due for tumor removal. He'd probably have to be in again this year - to be put down. Working with animals sucked sometimes. It could be very rewarding, though.

Before long, my shift was over and I drove my outdated Nissan Sentra back home. I don't know how I got home. My car was on auto pilot.

_I must be really tired. _

I made my way down the path to my apartment and once inside, headed straight for bed. I collapsed, fully clothed, and slept for two hours.

I woke up feeling stiff, but refreshed enough to do some reading. I went to the bathroom and admired the pillow creases on my cheek before I grabbed my school bag and headed for the couch. It wasn't long before my mind transported me to the eighteenth century forest north of New York; I was deeply engrossed in 'Last of the Mohicans'. My American Frontier in Literature class was transporting me back in time. Across the room, my cell phone rang on the kitchen counter.

_Run through the dappled forest with a shirtless Hawkeye, or answer the phone? What would Cora Munroe do? Pffft! She would answer the phone and then chase Hawkeye. _

_Hell no. She would get Hawkeye to answer the phone for her while holding her hand and staring longingly into her brown eyes. _

_Oh shit! The phone. Snap out of it, Swan. _

I raced across the room, tripping over atoms, apparently. I slid across the Berber carpeting and slammed my right toe into the kitchen cupboard. The phone flipped open quickly, and I pressed the speaker to my ear while I inspected the damage.

"Shitdamnfuck. Fuckerdicker! Damn, that hurts."

I didn't lose the nail, but the toe was all red and the corner was bleeding a little bit.

"Bella? Are you okay? Bella? You're making up new swear words - answer me, please." A deeply concerned and slightly panicked voice rumbled in my ear; it drew me out of my preoccupation with my foot.

"Edward? I'm right here, and I'm sorry. It's nothing - just a stubbed toe. Those swear words are not new, by the way. Those two combined are the seventh grade equivalent of the worst words you can say all at once. I should know. Alice and I were going to copyright them."

"Can you even do that?"

"We were in seventh grade, Edward…what was your follow-through record when you were twelve?"

"You have a point there. Do you know it's kind of sexy when you swear?"

"Edward, you're sexually obsessed. Watching me clean a toilet would be appealing to you."

"That would depend on the cleaner you use. Clorox bleach? Now, that's totally hot. That purple Kaboom stuff marketed by that guy with the beard? Not so much. He's better than a cold shower. I think he should market himself in a whole new way as an amorous repellent."

"Did you really call me to talk about bleach and… what did you say? Amorous repellents? I'm pretty confident that you have a point - you usually do…"

"I've been thinking of something overbearingly cavemanish that I could do in order to earn myself a second consequence. Are your tires bald? I could hijack your car and have the tires replaced. Ohhh, here's a good one. I could install all new fire detectors in your apartment - you know the new ones that detect carbon monoxide and have a fancy LCD display?"

"Masen..." I sighed.

_And we're back to his last name, again. When will he learn not to be so affectionately overbearing? Why does he have__ to be so cute all the time? He makes it so hard for me to maintain my pissed off demeanor. Summon up your inner bitch, Bells. _

"Jiminy Crickets, Masen… do I have to teach you everything? If you're trying to get your ass a consequence, you can't _tell _me what you plan on doing! When you tell someone the plan ahead of time, it becomes a thoughtful gesture. Sheez! Just for these shenanigans, I want you to report to my apartment, tomorrow night at seven pm sharp! Show up with pizza - no olives! If I see one olive on that pizza, your ass is grass! Are we clear?" I was yelling at this point, barking really.

_For some reason I'm channeling the drill sergeant from Forest Gump…weird. _

_What has gotten into me? I'm normally feisty, but this is unusual, even for me._

He chuckled. "Crystal."

"Stop laughing! And wipe that grin off your face!"

"Yes, ma'am."

I hung up the phone. There was a knock at the door.

_Oh my god. Is that him? No fricken way. _

Another knock, three raps this time. My heart was beating tempo with those knocks at the door.

_Primp or no primp? _

I quickly took a personal inventory.

_Hair in a messy bun; sweats with Bruins lettered out down the left leg; no make up. Assessment: total train wreck. _

Three more raps.

_Insistent bugger_.

"Delivery for a…. Ms. Swan?"

_That's not Edward's voice. THAT'S NOT EDWARD'S VOICE! WAHOOO CRISIS AVERTED!_

I strolled, sauntered really, over to the door - opening it and using the new chain lock to restrain the gap.

"I have a delivery for you here. You need to sign for it." The delivery guy handed a clipboard through the small door opening. I quickly signed and handed it back to him.

"Hang on just a second. I'll just go get a…."

"Gratuity was already generously prearranged by the sender, Ms. Swan."

"Thank you," I said, as I unhooked the chain and opened the door to accept a gorgeous floral arrangement with tall pink flowers interspersed with white daisies. Greenery rounded out the whole array. My hand reached out to rub my finger against the white satin ribbon. It was lovely. I shut the door and heard the footsteps of the delivery guy receding. Looking for a tag, I noticed a discreet envelope. on the back of the arrangement. I pulled it from the plastic prong. Enclosed were a card and two printed floral descriptions. I went for the note first.

_Is this his handwriting? Wow, I have to respect a male comfortable enough with himself to have such an elaborate hand. _

Beautiful flowers for a beautiful girl

-E

Put these on the nightstand on the other side of your bed~

A girl as wonderful as you should have flowers in every room.

I set the note next to the flowers. I would be reading that again. There was a persistent achy feeling in my chest. I rubbed it, trying to make it lessen.

_Odd. Don't know what to make of that._

I picked up the other two glossy pieces of paper.

**Delphinium**

A perennial flower of the Ranunculaceae family

Color range: blue, white, pink, and lavender

Pink varieties are less common than the popular blue delphinium

Symbolic meaning: Boldness

**Daisy**

A classic flower of friendship

The English variety is called Bellis Perennis

Color Range: white, off white, and slightly pink

Daisies spread through Europe to the Americas in the 1600's

Symbolic meaning: Innocence

He gave me pink and white flowers.

_Does he think of me as a little girl? Nah. We've already established that he doesn't feel at all fatherly towards me. There's something here… I just can't put my finger on it. _

My eyes stung as I reread the Delphinium card.

_Why didn't he give me blue delphiniums?_

"Pink delphiniums are less common."

_Less common… hard to find....less common... rare. Oh my gosh! Pink delphiniums are rare, unique and beautiful, rare and sweet. Why on earth is something dripping down my chin?_

I pressed my hands to my cheeks and discovered I was crying.

_He thinks I'm precious!_

I sat down hard on my bed looked at the delphinium card again. "Symbolic meaning: Boldness."

_Huh? I guess I'm a little bit bold with him. He's not telling me I'm too forward, is he?_

I gave up trying to figure that one out for the moment and looked at the Daisy card again. I read through it one more time.

_Symbolic meaning…a classic flower of friendship…symbolic meaning…boldness…innocence…boldness and innocence_

A blush spread across my cheeks as I thought back to our sessions.

_A kiss on the forehead; holding his cheeks; holding hands; an unexpected kiss on his cheek; a passionate kiss; telling him that I'm not frigid; holding hands all the way home. _

I think I must have stared off into space for ten minutes.

_Daffy Duck on Crack, Bells! Don't you think you should thank the man? _

_Of course I should. Now, what to say? _

_Hhm…you're going for clever and sweetly thankful. You just yelled at him. Damn! Why was I so mean? Should I text him? Call him in person? Ack! What do I do? What would Cora Munroe do? _

_Nice one. She would write a long letter with quill and ink. _

_That's out. Call him already!_

Before I could chicken out, I picked up my phone and did the deed.

_It's ringing… It's ringing._

"Hello?......... Hello?......... Witchy woman? Is that you?"

"Hi." I was suddenly tongue-tied. No man, heck, no _one_ had ever given me flowers, and _this_ man had not only done the thoughtful deed, no, _this_ man had also taken the time to choose flowers that conveyed meaning. _This_ man clearly knew me well enough, after only two days, to comprehend that a grand bouquet of roses would not have meant as much. My heart was hammering in my chest.

"Bella?"

"Yeah."

"Are you okay? You're awfully quiet."

"I don't know how to say thank you. Thank you seems so…not enough."

"You got the flowers. It's too much…I…?"

"No. It's the perfect…what you sent is perfect… you get me…so much…"

_What is wrong with me? Why can't I just tell him what I am thinking?_

"That's because I like you just the way you are."

"Are you a fan of Bridget Jones?"

"Who is Bridge Jones? Is he a Jazz musician?"

_Another film for the consequence backlog…how on earth could he have missed the Helen Fielding phenomenon of the late 90's? _

_Answer: he's a heterosexual male, dummy._

"No. But that would be a really good jazz name, wouldn't it?" I was laughing by now, his ineptitude at girly pop culture in such contrast to his insight with the flowery gesture on my kitchen counter. I gave in to the urge to twirl a strand of hair around my finger as I leaned a hip into the edge of the tile counter.

"Edward?" I said as I watched the lock of hair wind round and round.

"Yup?"

"I have this strange feeling that you're going to be…you're going to…"

"It's okay, Bella. Just start slowly. At a loss for words?"

"Guh…. Yes! Why can't I be articulate with you?"

"Finish your thought, Bella. You can do it. I don't bite."

"I have this feeling that you're going to be all of my firsts."

"Did you not really think about that when we decided to help each other?"

"No. You were there when I suggested it. It just came to me, and I verbalized it. I didn't even think about…whether or not you would want the pressure of handling all of my firsts."

"It's not pressure. It's an honor. I'm up for it….." It got really quiet on his end of the line. I was just about to say something when he started again.

"Bella. This is big for you. I don't think I even thought this all the way through either. If you would like to alter our agreement or, change things…I won't stand in your way. I understand. I just……… want you to be happy."

Now my end of the line was really quiet. I was gathering my courage to confess my feelings.

_God this is mortifying!_

"I don't think I could do this with someone else, Edward. I don't think I would want to. I hope that's not…I hope that doesn't sound weird."

He released a big sigh. "I think I would die if you did this with someone else."

Unexpectedly, both of us were breathing again.

"Possessive much?" I pressed my cheeks back into a more normal expression - my cheeks were beginning to hurt from smiling like the town fool.

"Like an absolute Neanderthal…. … … … I don't know how much of this you would want to know, but you're changing me as well, Bella."

"I'm changing you? Wow. I never thought of myself as a sculptor or a magician."

"Very funny. To quote you, 'Hardy har har.' What I mean is….this is hard to say because it's sexual in nature."

I grew still as I gripped my phone in my now sweaty palm.

_What is he about to reveal? I think I need to tread carefully here. He's been very gentle with you, Bella. Now is your chance to return the favor._

"Okay, Edward. I'm turning off the acerbic switch. No cheap shots. I promise."

He released another big sigh. "Thanks."

"Breathe a little bit, hon." I urged him. "You sound all tense."

"Okay. You know my insatiability problem?"

"Mmm. Hmm."

"When I get turned on, it's really hard to turn me off. I mean... it just comes right back? Remember what we talked about last time? I'm the horndog and you called yourself the asexual worm?"

We both chuckled for a moment at the memory of our coffee shop labels, but then he turned serious again.

"Well, my sex therapist, my father, has been working with me so that I can work towards being…normal…well, quasi normal at least."

It all started to click in my head at this point.

_The other night. He went into that knowing…knowing that we would flip the switch, and it would be really difficult for him to flip it back off again. I have to be…considerate of him just like he has __to be über-careful with me._

"I'm learning how to deal with my disorder with a therapeutic approach. Back when it was bad, really bad, when I was with an ex-girlfriend…it wasn't unusual to have eight self-induced orgasms in one night. Anyone I asked about it would just tell me to take a cold shower. That never worked on me. I couldn't sleep, if I was with someone - I didn't make sense to them. I didn't even tell anyone for a long time. It's typical for people with this disorder to be ashamed and to keep quiet about it. It started to affect work and school. Finally, I went to my dad. I mean, he's a sex therapist. I'm lucky to have someone close to me who gets this scenario. He'd never known anyone quite like me. There are only a few case studies that present in a similar way. So, if you've ever felt like a freak…I could write a book on being a freak."

_He's being so candid. Now share something back to make him feel as though he's in good company._

"I can totally relate to the word 'freak.' I think I used that word in the coffee shop, right? If I didn't, I've felt it," I said. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I had to let you know you're not alone."

"You're good at making me feel comfortable, Bella. Don't worry about it." He was quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "So, back to the therapeutic approach…I didn't explain that. Carlisle has been working with me to reteach my mind and body to do what I tell it to do. Part of your sexuality is involuntary…but it's supposed to be influenced by the will as well. I've been strengthening my will, so to speak. My body is listening, Bella. I'm down to three," he said finally. I could hear a hint of a smile in his voice.

"Three?" I repeated back to him. "Is that good? I mean…hell, I've never had one. What's even normal?"

"I guess everyone is different. Normal is…...Carlisle told me I could define normal on my own terms. Normal is whatever I want it to be."

"Have you figured out what your goal is then?"

"This is going to sound funny, I guess. I'd been stagnating for a long time. I guess I lost my motivation. I think of it as a person struggling with weight loss…you can push through to the end or settle for less. I was settling for less during the time before I met you. The day that we met, I renewed my goal. I want to get to two. I want to get there by next week. If I did that…I wouldn't be that different from the average male walking down the street."

"Oh. Edward. I had no idea. I'm so happy for you. Can I be happy for you having fewer orgasms? Is that… I have to confess that I'm dying to crack a joke at your expense, but I'd rather shoot myself in the right toe than make you feel uncomfortable. I feel like we're being sappy or hokey, and I don't know how to be hokey and not crack an insensitive joke."

I was suddenly glad to be speaking on the phone with him instead of trying to get out all this awkwardness face to face. He seemed relieved as well.

"I love your sense of humor, and you're not insensitive; you're intuitive. You usually know just what to say to get me to take myself less seriously or to get me to relax. Why the right foot, Bella?"

"It's the one I stubbed earlier. It would hurt more."

"You silly woman." I could hear the smile in his voice when he said that.

"That's me. Can I flip the acerbic switch back on?"

"Of course. So, I even had another reason for calling," he stated casually.

"You mean you had more to talk about besides orgasms?" I began to snicker and we both laughed at the ludicrous nature of our conversation - over the phone, no less.

"Will you save this Saturday for a day time date with me?" He sounded hopeful, like a little boy.

_Is this what it's like to ask someone out? Sheesh, I've never even had to do something like that. It must suck to be a dude. What if the girl says no? Oh, no Bella! You're leaving him hanging… Answer, quick._

"This Saturday… Saturday…well, I have a four hour light workday on Saturday next. I would be out by around twelve. Would that be suitable? Sunday I need to study, but…woops... You didn't ask about Sunday… That was too much information. I'm sorry."

"That's okay. So that was a yes, right?"

_He's verifying my yes? I just told him…maybe he wants to hear me actually say yes?_

"Yes." I restrained myself from saying yup.

_Let the man have his yes. _

"What time would be….how much time would you need after work for me to show up?"

"Can you be at my apartment by one?"

"Definitely. That takes care of the weekend. Oh wait. I'll get to see you tomorrow night at your place for pizza. I haven't forgotten about the olives."

"Sounds like a plan.

"Goodnight, Masen."

_He's going to hate __that…4…3…2…1_

"Hey! What happened to Edward?"

"Goodnight, Edward," I said in my silkiest come-hither voice.

"Goodnight Bella," he coughed and then hung up.

**AN: ****Hawkeye and Cora Monroe are both references to James Fennimore Cooper's novel **_**The Last of the Mohicans.**_** That book was my first taste of the hero who struggles to walk with one foot in two different worlds (Anglo and Native American). I can't help but feel that so many good heroes have to walk some kind of boundary. Stephenie Meyer understood that as well.**

**The week I was writing this chapter, the reference to Billy Mays coincided with his passing. I hope you understand no disrespect was intended. Please take it in the light-hearted manner in which it was written.**

**So I got to define the insatiability condition. I know there are holes in it. It seems hard to draw the line between someone with this ****possibly fictitious**** disorder, and a person who simply lacks control. I hope you can suspend your disbelief if you're experiencing that.**

**I'm giving up my free time during my summer break for you. I don't mind monosyllabic reviews either. Review. Validate the calluses on my fingertips. Okay. Rant over. **

**I lied… if you're new to reviewing (I'm not a good reviewer myself… have read hundreds of stories and not said a single solitary word…horrible right****?) Tell me**** one thing that made you smile or laugh or one thing you really liked about either Bella or Edward. There. I've given you a concrete task…Now you have no excuse:P**


	7. Olives

**AN: I don't own any characters. Stephenie Meyer owns everything.**

From Chapter 6:

"Goodnight Edward" I said in my silkiest come hither voice.

"Goodnight Bella" he coughed and then hung up.

Chapter 7

Olives

Wednesday morning

BPOV

So I was late to my Milton class. I was dreaming again. I couldn't help it. My brain wanted to work out what had been on my mind lately. This was simply not my fault. When I dreamt this morning, my brain incorporated the sound of the alarm into my dream. I lacked the capability of distinguishing between the angry sound coming from the white box by my bed and the noises my subconscious created in my dream….

_The clinic was empty. Hellooo? Evan? Julie! All I could hear was the absence of human noises. There were no shuffling footsteps; no phones clicking into cradles, no fingers tapping into keyboards. The clinic was entirely empty of workers. I looked up to the wall and spotted the calendar. There was a picture of a giant turkey where the usual picture belonged. Thanksgiving? Hmm…Thanksgiving doesn't usually come in September… must be a change in holiday rules this year… __"Just_ go with it," _my__ subconscious ordered me. _

_It was the meowing that got to me first. There was a chorus of meowing. It must have been forty-five pissed off kitties that sounded like someone just ate their best friend, or stole a prized lizard, or made all the birdies go extinct at once. Who the fuck pissed off all of my cats? Every cage I walked by had a pacing feline inside. It wasn't the usual let me out of here…kitty behavior…it was, "I'm going fucking apeshit in here!" cat behavior. _

"_Rrrreow! Mrrrrrrow! MmmmmmNoooooww!"_

_Had that cat just said "now?"_

"_Did I stutter?" hissed a giant fat tabby in cage fourteen in front of me._

"_Shit." I was losing my mind…_

"_You have to let the cat out of the cage__!" the cat__ hissed again. _

_What the hell? There were tons of cats in here!! Why on earth had the talking tabby from Hades just used the singular when referring to a caged cat? OH. MY. KITTY. I was having a Freudian feline sex dream. Get me out of this! Wake up, Bella. Don't let your subconscious tell you to uncage your lady parts---__this is fricking ridiculous!__ Wake up Bella! Wake up dammit…_

"_Back off! I yelled," at the__ pissed off cats._

"_I need more time! Don't you understand? Meow Mix wasn't mixed in one day! Shit. Fancy Feast wasn't fancified in one day either...Leave me alone!"_

_I began to shake on the bars of the fat tabby's cage. _

"_Leave me alone… you butter licking stupid cat! IT'S MY PUSSY DAMMIT!"_

_Mrrrrrow! Reeeer! Hissss! Ffffft ffffft...Reeeer! Reeeer! Beeep Beeeep Beep Beeep_.

I woke up holding onto the wooden slats above my headboard. I think I was rattling the bars like they were a cage in the clinic.

_Peter, Patrick, and Pablo…you are so ridiculous, Bella._

_Should I write this one down? _

_Well, it's definitely an anxiety dream related to my sexuality. Dr. Pfeiffer always had me write down my dreams and bring them into the next session. _

I pulled the spiral notebook out of my bedside drawer and began to furiously copy down the dream verbatim. I chanced looking up at the clock. 8:20…shoot!

My Milton class was at 9:00, and I still had to huff it across campus to get there…There wouldn't be a single parking space left at this time of day. Ack! It had to be my Milton class too…my hardest class and I thought the professor hated me, or hated other students who'd looked like me? Honestly I couldn't figure out why he was so mean to me.

_Get back to writing Bella- the sooner you finish this, the sooner you can get out of here. __There. All done._

I threw the notebook back into the bedside drawer and flew into the bathroom.

Dr. Wilhelm Boon's class was run in a rather military style. We were expected to arrive on time to class and not simply warm the polyvinyl blue seats. We were supposed to be brilliant, encyclopedic, analytical geniuses able to identify any literary allusions at a moment's notice. No matter how obscure the mythological Greek reference, no matter if the text gave the Roman name for the love goddess, we were expected to name the Greek instead. I never seemed to be able to do anything right in his class. And to top it off, I was one of those eager, needy students who liked to raise her hand. In his class, I'd learned to sit on my hands and muzzle myself. Inevitably he'd call on you anyhow expecting truly innovative thought. One of his favorite one liners was to respond to a typical whine.

"But Dr. Boon! How on earth can I be expected to know this reference to metaphysical science from the seventeenth century? It's in the field of pseudo science, and I wasn't even born!"

_Stupid, stupid freshmen…_

To which Boon distinctly replied, "English majors must know everything, Neidermeyer…everything."

My mind must have wandered back to my disturbing cat nightmare when I heard someone bark out my name.

"Swan! Look alive! No drooling permitted before the immortal work of John Milton!"

Someone nudged me and I rejoined the land of the living… or dead… depending on how you looked at it.

"What do you think the leaf imagery means in the 789th line of Milton's masterpiece?"

_Leave imagery… no wait... Bella…leaf imagery…leaves…Garden of Eden…innocence…disobedience in the Garden of Eden._

"Wuh well, sir…Could it possibly be a reference to knowledge of the tree of fruit and evil?"

"You're spineless, Swan! Have some confidence. I'm asking the questions. You answer declaratively. Try again."

"It's more Eden imagery, sir."

_I certainly wasn't going to completely repeat myself. Who the hell does this crackerjack think he is?_

Grudgingly, Dr. Boon gave me halting verbal praise. "You're right Swan. Thank God you didn't say the 'Romance of the Forest' again. If Dr. Dietrich brainwashes one more student into thinking all literary roads lead to trees with eyeballs and personalities, then I'll…. I'll have to hurt someone! Beauchamp! Wake up! Read the next stanza aloud…try to do justice to the King's English you nitwit."

And so I survived Dr. Boon's attention, again. It was a close thing, though.

The part that ticked me off was that I liked Dr. Dietrich's class. I felt as though I learned quite a bit in her class. She didn't yell at us. Sometimes she looked a bit frustrated or disheartened…but she also didn't try to break our spirits. She was so enthusiastic…A person couldn't help but get on the Puritan bandwagon with her. Or the Romantic Forest bandwagon. Whatever she asked you to read, no matter how dry or boring it was- you just felt compelled to rise to her expectations. I anticipated letting Dr. Boon down on a regular basis. There was no way to live up to his demands. Oh well…

I spent the rest of the afternoon in the library working on a creative writing paper for Dietrich's class. I had a little research to do as well. It was four o'clock by the time I walked back to my little homey cave. My home is my safe zone. I don't have to share space with other dorm-mates. If I were a toilet seat lifter, I could leave the toilet seat up if I wanted. It's quiet, or noisy, or whatever I wanted it to be. After a year of living in the co-ed dorms with every Joe, Schmoe, Larry, and Harriet, I was finally on my own.

My academic scholarship, based on hefty Pell and Cal grants, was generous enough to actually cut me a check above and beyond the school's take every semester. I was actually paid to go to school by the state and fed. Given, I didn't really have a father, and my mother didn't make an income. On paper, I was two eye twitches away from living on the streets. The state and the fed were taking care of me and I was not going to gripe about it. As long as my car held out a little bit longer and nothing tragic happened, I would be okay.

I walked the space, picking things up and putting them back in appropriate places. It didn't take too long to get things tidy. Laundry was next. I refrained myself from looking at the clock.

_Mustn't psych yourself out. Don't look at the clock, Bella. Looking at the dab nab it clock won't make him get here faster or slower. So, stop making yourself nuts! _

I broke. I looked at the clock: 5:10.

_I have enough time to put on an express wash cycle and have it done before he gets here._

I trudged down to the washing facility…hauling my necessaries with me. I set the load; set my kitchen timer; and trudged back to my domicile.

_What to do while the twenty-five minute load does its spin thing… what to do… what to do…_

For some reason unknown to humanity I ended up back in my bedroom. I picked up my spiral notebook and read this morning's dream. I couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped my lips. The chuckle turned into a choked sob.

"_Whew…get it together…"_

"_What is wrong with you?"_

"_I'm freaking out here? I'm a freaking freak remember? The asexual worm is becoming…a sexed up butterfly."_

"_Jeez Louise, Swan…couldn't you at least have chosen something from the animal world that at least goes through a transformation? Worms don't become anything but worms."_

"_Worms are useful!"_ I argued heartily_. "Worms aerate the soil and provide really necessary nitrates and other poop related stuff."_

"_Worms don't get any! Worms bury heads in the loam. Worms are impervious to pain! They don't feel anything… Is that really living, Bella? Who would want to remain a worm when they have the chance to be…anything other than a worm? I mean, think about__it - cut a worm's__ head off and it just regenerates the part that it needs." _

"_Have I been cutting myself into different parts in order to avoid actually living?"_

"_Hell, yes you have."_

"_Did I cut my own heart out after James did what he did, and then my Dad died?"_

"_Perhaps you shouldn't try to psychoanalyze yourself, Swan. You declined the 200 level in that course. I highly doubt a licensed therapist would allow you to compare yourself__ to an invertebrate anyhow…I mean… you're a vertebrate! Surely that counts for something…"_

I walked the apartment gathering stray papers and dishes. It wasn't until I had changed the sheets on my bed and used Windex on all the chrome fixtures and the mirror in the bathroom that the kitchen timer dinged. I trudged back down to the washroom and switched my load into the dryer; set the timer for forty five minutes this time; and then wandered the complex with the timer bulging out of my front pocket. Before long, I was walking back to my unit with the basket full of clean clothes. I had already folded everything. It kept me from schlepping a basket of clean clothes to molder on my bedroom floor for a week until everything in the basket was full of dirty clothing. Hours of solitude living alone had made me tidy at least. Rising the crest of the walkway, I observed that my stoop was occupied.

_He's here. Shoot! He's ten minutes early. Yikes! I didn't even put lip gloss on or anything._

_Stop being such a wussy, Swan. _

I scampered right over to him, my laundry basket bumping into my hip at my exuberant pace. A piece of hair was hanging in between my eyes. I huffed to get it out of the way.

"Hiya." I couldn't restrain the silly upward tilt to my lips.

"Howdy." He grinned at me.

I huffed at the recalcitrant tress again. "Could you…?"

He read my mind and tucked the rebellious subject back into the fray with all the other tresses. It seemed to make him happy to do such a small thing. He snapped out of some kind of a funk, and took the basket out of my hands - freeing me to obtain keys and open doors. There was a pizza resting precariously on the stone retaining wall near the bed of shrubbery. I picked it up and walked inside, locking the door out of habit and kicking off my shoes.

"Hey Bella!" He was calling from the other end of the apartment having walked ahead of me.

"Hey Edward!" I parried back to him.

"How long have you been wearing red polka dotted silky underwear?" _MarthaStewartLivingOmnimediaCorporation! _

_Should I run down there and snatch the panties out of his panty perving hands or play it really cool? _

_Really cool, of course._

I scurried into the kitchen, dumped the pizza, and grabbed the terry cloth towel sitting on the counter.

"Not very long. Why do you ask?" I said cool as a cucumber. I actually walked into the room, pretending to dry my hands on a terry cloth towel as though I hadn't a care in the world.

"How long have you been a panty raider, Edward?" I raised one eyebrow at him and tilted my hips into the doorframe, trying to channel Alice's confidence. I flipped the towel onto my shoulder with a smooth flick of the wrist.

_Hah! I think I've won this one!_

"Only since I've known you. I suppose you inspire the panty raider in me."

He looked directly into my eyes without a smirk or a twitch or even a blink.

_Fuck. Me. Twice. Long and Hard._ _Shit! Pull up Bella. Pull up! You're going to crash and burn! _

I spiraled out of control…straight into a full body blush. To my utter consternation and dismay, I felt those same traitorous tears from earlier pricking at the insides of my eyes.

_No way! Not this again!_

They spilled over my cheeks and betrayed me right to his face - his now very concerned face. He must have crossed the room in 2.5 strides.

"Hey… are you okay? I forget how new you are to this stuff. You exude this confidence, and I forget, okay?" We weren't embracing exactly, but he was rubbing my arms up and down. He was being so nice.

_Ugh_…_don't be nice! Be a jerk! Niceness makes me fall apart even more, Edward!_

I tucked my head down into his chest and let the tears do their thing. I wasn't sobbing, but I wasn't fighting the tears anymore either.

"It's not entirely you, Edward. I was freaking out before you came over."

I guessed my head against his chest was tacit permission to really hug me. He did. I lost it. I was muttering something about cats and Freud and worms and total emo nonsense. I'm surprised he didn't run screaming from the room. I found myself heading back towards my despicable couch…I muttered something about pillows and soft and cushy - bed instead. We switched directions back to the scene of the crime. Tucked against his side, I was able to stop sniffling and pull it together. I told him about the dream… or at least I tried to G-rate it and summarize it.

"Wait. You wrote it down?" he said with a surprised look. I was burrowed into his shoulder at that point. I muttered something about the bedside drawer. I felt him shift, the drawer open and close, pages fluttering, Edward settling and reading…Edward chuckling…Edward choking with laughter.

_That's right, clowns- hyuck it up_…_there's more where that came from._

Finally, he got quiet. "Do you realize I don't even know where you work?" he queried with puzzlement in his voice. "Apparently it has something to do with animals or cats? I think…" With my face pressed into his layers of clothing and my sweater and tank on underneath, I actually felt a little bit warm. I sat up and took off my sweater without thinking at all. "What the hell? he gasped out when he saw the long red scratches on my arms. "Who did this to you, Bella?" His voice was loud, but contained, and kind of lethal or deadly or back street alleys kill someone and shove the carcass in the Thames River.

_Why did I just use Jack the Ripper imagery to describe Edward? I donno, because when you're hurt Edward is scarier than Jack?_

I didn't know how to answer because I was still stupidly analyzing his voice.

"Ivan. It's okay, really. It's not what you think it is."

"Who the hell is Ivan? I'll kill him. He has no right to lay his hands on you!" He actually got up and started to pace. I giggled - I couldn't help it. I think the super long emotional day was getting to me, and I was getting punchy and irrational. His eyebrows shot up.

"You think this is funny, Bella?" he sneered.

I sighed. "I'm not trying to torture you. I'm just tired and emotionally wrung out. Ivan is a Russian Blue cat at the clinic. I work at an animal clinic, Edward. Cat Scratches." I said slowly. "The owner brought him in - all distressed because he had snuck out and managed to get himself hung up in a cactus. Apparently, desert landscaping is the new thing," I snorted, but continued doggedly. "We had to remove the cactus spines one by one from his poor hindquarters. Ivan was mad. I would have been mad, too! You can't blame the animal for defending himself," I explained.

He released the breath he'd been holding for who knows how long and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sorry. Does that count as 'going all caveman' on you? What chick flick from hell are you going to subject me to, Bella Marie Swan?"

My eyes widened.

_How does he know your middle name? What to address first, the consequence or the full name thing?_

"I think it is going a little caveman, but it was a natural response to a strange situation, so no cleaning supplies required. Why don't we eat and then decide? I'm hungry. You remembered about the olives, right? And Hey!" I said remembering. "How on earth do you know my middle name?"

"In addition to panty raiding, I also do a little mail snooping on the side," he said this as though he was discussing the weather or something mundane. "How long have you hated olives?" he asked as he transferred a slice of pizza onto a stoneware plate. "You didn't mention that the other day. I thought it was gyro meat and okra that did you in."

"Oh. I don't hate olives," I stated succinctly and left it at that.

"What? Oh, come on! You can't just leave it there…that's totally unfair."

I got up and put the 'Sixteen Candles' DVD in the player and walked at a reasonable pace around the kitchen bar to the fridge. It might have been a slow pace.

_Bella why are you stalling? Just tell him; it's not that big of a deal._

_What if I don't want to? It's my story to tell and I'm not ready to talk about this yet._

"Bella…," he growled. "Are you going to tell me already?"

Instead of bringing the cans of soda I'd retrieved directly over, I got out two 'Star

Wars' glasses and loaded them with ice. I think he could tell I was deliberately stalling.

_Who am I kidding? Of course he knows you're stalling. Why are you stalling again? He doesn't care about your weird ping pong mind with its bendy rules. Just tell him. _

I filled the glasses of diet coke without spilling a drop - waiting for the bubbles to die down before I returned to him. I looked up. He wasn't there.

_Wait. What?_

"Bella." He was right behind me! I must have jumped a mile. I tensed. My hands fisted. Thankfully he talked me out of a panic attack just like last time. Focusing on breathing, and putting him back in front of me seemed to help.

We wound up back on the sofa finishing up the pizza.

"You know I'm not going to let a little panic attack let you off the hook."

_Gosh he's tough! I like it._

Just to play along though, I adopted a mutinous look.

"The olives, I believe?" he drawled elegantly, leaning back against the tough cushions.

"It's a way of distancing myself, I guess. I hadn't intended to…I screwed up when I was yelling at you the other day. I just blurted out the olive thing without really thinking about it." My explanation sounded completely juvenile and ridiculous in my ears.

"I'm seriously trying here, Bella. Olives are a way of distancing yourself from…whom? from me? Do you do this with other canned, salted condiments or just olives?" I swear he was going to continue, and ask me about green olives and pickled gherkins, but the serious expression on my face must have stopped him.

"Acerbic switch off, huh?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"I'm just intuitive that way." He was back to being his usual smarmy self.

_Wait! I'm smarmy! He's…usually just amused. Way to turn the tables on me, Edward._

"Okay. Here goes. I actually love olives. They were one of my favorite foods. I used to put them on my fingers when I was a kid. My dad used to play olive man with me. It was nonsense - it was wonderful. I stopped eating olives when my dad died. This may sound crazy, but they remind me of him too much."

"So you deny yourself your favorite food? It's been years since you've eaten olives… and you genuinely like them?"

"Yup. I deny myself lots of things. Asexual worm, remember?"

"I'm beginning to hate that label, Bella. It's not really funny anymore."

The conversation lapsed into silence again. After a few minutes, I got up to put the dishes away and straighten things up. It didn't take long to put the leftover pizza in a storage bag and to wipe up a few crumbs.

"Are you still up for the movie? It's actually rather funny in a teen angst sort of way." I went into the bedroom and divested my bed of all its cushy pillowy goodness to try to get some comfort out of my unforgiving couch.

"I've decided on my next, what did you call it? Ah yes…thoughtful gesture was the turn of phrase you used. I'm going to put this damn futon out to pasture in the trash corral, and get you a real sofa."

"My sofa isn't real enough for you?" I scoffed.

Continuing the old west imagery, he justified his assertion. "No. It's not. A real couch is a cowboy's dream come true. It's made of supple leather, like my couch. It envelops your whole body with comfort and soothes your aching muscles after a long day of punching cows."

"Edward! When on earth have you ever punched a cow? Good grief, what are you talking about?"

"I really just want to explain a man's taste in furniture. At heart, all men are just cowboys, right? We like our meat and potatoes and anything worth doing is worth doing with a lasso, or our hands. Yep. All men are cowboys. It's in our DNA." He wiggled into a pillow and settled his hands behind his head as though he were lying on a saddle under the stars.

_He's way too cute for his own good. He can talk ridiculous metaphors all day long. I think I'd like a session, now. What happened to your fear, Swan? You were ready to shit a brick earlier. Why so relaxed now?_

I turned off the movie that had been playing in the background to our nonstop discussion. We really aren't movie watchers, apparently. Can't shut us up to save our lives.

"Edward. I think I want to explore new content now. That is, unless you…well perhaps I shouldn't…Maybe it would be better for everyone if we…"

"Bella," he said quietly. "Do you think you could finish one or both of those thoughts?" He seemed to sense either my embarrassment or my distress and gently, slowly pulled me over to snuggle next to him. "Tell me what's gotten you all twisted up." He was looking at me, studying me, really.

_It's like he's truth serum and I'm the hostile subject. I get close to him and just start blabbing everything._

"I don't know if we should keep going on the original deal if it's going to flip the switch and possibly torture you all night. I have to be just as careful with you as you are with me, right? I shouldn't have even done that sexy thing at the end of our phone conversation last night. I didn't realize until after we hung up, what that might do to you. Did I majorly screw up?"

"Are you welshing on me, Swan?" His repeat of my phrase from that long walk the other day had the effect of snapping me out of my shyness.

_Bold Bella is back!_

"Of course not. I like the project. I think the project is way cool. I just don't want to be a selfish jerk about it."

"How could you be a selfish jerk about it if you're actually helping me to achieve my goal? I can't avoid my issue, Bella. I have to deal with it - whenever it may…arise…" he snickered. I rolled my eyes at him.

_Real mature, Edward. I think I just heard Beavis and Butthead 'heh heh heh' in the background. _

"Does it matter when we have project MBC time? Is it easier or more considerate to choose to do this stuff on the weekend when you could catch up on sleep or nap or whatever?" I said this while talking to his sternum. I still was not fully comfortable with talking about making out.

"Honestly? I don't intend to lose as much sleep over this anymore. I'm very determined to lick this thing. Here's where it gets funny - Do I want to have sexy time with you because of my sexual obsession, or do I want to have sexy time in order to work on correcting my sexual obsession?" He paused and let me digest this.

_His mind is as ping pong fucked up as mine is! I love the way he thinks. _

I must have been smiling really big. He smiled right back at me.

In a hideous Kazakhstani accent, he immitated, "Ina my country…we like to make moviefilm… about sexy time.. Miss Sexy American woh-man…uh.. will you make moviefilm with me?"

He got a finger flick on the forehead for asking to film me.

_Stupid sexually obsessed horndog!_

I decided to stare at him until he got serious again. It worked. We were sitting close together. My eyes were locked on his eyes. His began to glitter and focus in on different features of my face. "Do you remember the safe word?"

"Yes, I do." I verified.

"How are you feeling?"

"Would you just…!"

"No. I don't think I will. It's your turn."

_What?_

"So I have to kiss you?"

"Ayup." he said simply.

"How the heck do I start this?"

"What did we do last time, Miss Swan? Have you forgotten the game plan already? I'm crushed. Previous content," he whispered not far from my ear. "And I always thought our kisses were so memorable."

He really was beginning to tick me off! I grabbed his hands in a huff. He chuckled. I rolled my eyes at him again.

_Stop enjoying my awkwardness so much, Masen!_

"You're not awkward, Bella - you're adorable. The kitten has claws."

_Shoot! I must have said that out loud. Stupid broken internal monologue!_

I hadn't realized that my hands were stroking in circles over the tops of his hands.

_My thumbs like this…it's very…soothing._

I scooted a little closer to him. "Put your arms around me, Edward. You're supposed to be helping me, you know."

"Well, where would you like them?"

"Around my back, like before. Previous content, remember?" I scoffed at him, throwing his sexy taunts right back. His arms crept around me slowly. I felt the heat of his palms encompass my back, searing right through me.

_How does he do that?_

I tried to stop talking to myself and focus on his lips and my breathing.

_We've done this before. We can do it again. The only difference is that you are initiating it. _

I leaned forward, letting myself breathe. I closed my eyes.

_Are his eyes closed?_

I popped one eye open.

_Yep. He's being good._ _Focus. _

I let my lips get closer and closer until our breaths actually mingled. My mind went back to that other kiss. I rubbed my lips over his and basically stole all of his moves. He had taught me that kissing was really claiming territory.

_Top lip-mine. Bottom lip-that's mine too. Soft, wet part of inner lip-totally mine. I heard a sound in the periphery of my consciousness. Is that him or me? Who the hell is moaning? _

I went back to kissing him. I decided to taste his lower lip. One little taste.

_Yes! He tastes good…warm sweetness. Mmmmm. Yep. That one was definitely me. _

I can't leave his upper lip feeling…second best, so I decided to taste that too. I actually sucked his upper lip into my mouth and tugged on it.

_I, Bella Swan, girl who fights with eyes closed and fists raised just sucked on a hot man's mouth! _

I don't know when my hands wound up in his hair, but suddenly they were. I guess things were swirling out of control, because we both broke away gasping for air.

Chests pounding, hearts pulsing, we looked at each other and got right back in. It was less hesitant this time. Suddenly, I wasn't kissing him, he was kissing me. He went back over his moves. His hand was sliding up my back, however. His hand slid up under my hair to tease the skin at the back of my neck.

_Suddenly I was somewhere else. I was in a beat up Datsun. It smelled like stale bodies and stale food. I wasn't supposed to be here. _The sensation of a phantom James being anywhere in my vicinity killed any good feelings I had.I was no longer kissing Edward. My whole body was a giant ice cube.

"Constable. Uh…Custody….Custodian!" Finally I got the right one.Edward had already pulled away. His breathing was already under control. He was holding my hand.

"You did it, Bella. You did it," he said softly. Against my will, a tear slipped down my hot cheek.

"No Bella, this was a huge accomplishment," he encouraged quietly. "Celebrate it. You went far tonight. And you helped me learn one of your trigger spots. You didn't even know your neck was an issue did you?"

"I remember now. He had his hand on my neck when I was trying to twist away. All I remember was that my arms didn't work. He must have been holding my neck really hard. My mom said I had bruises, well, all over, really. But I never actually saw the handprint on the back of my neck. I mean, who would want to? It's probably in my case file. Sheesh," I said caustically. "I bet your brother Emmett knows more about my trauma than I do."

"Bella. You Have. To Stop. Stop beating yourself up for things you cannot control. I want you to repeat an affirmation for me. 'It's not my fault.' Can you do that for me?"

"Why? That's lame Edward. I don't need to repeat some silly rape hotline affirmation."

"Are you scared to say the words, Bella?"

"No! of course not, Why would I be scared to say some silly phrase?"

_Am I scared?_

_Of course not. Am I?_

"Because if you start to say the words, and actually start to believe them - you might have to actually let go of all this fear, and closed-off behavior that you've harbored for who knows how many years?" Edward looked at me, his eyes locking on mine, with a sad but compassionate expression on his face.

"I was ….finger raped… when I was fourteen…23 now, so eight years? That's a long time to hold onto something I guess," I sighed. My subconscious couldn't come up with a single rational argument to place before him.

"'It's not my fault.'" He nudged me, quoting himself for my sake. "Come on. You can do it; it's just four little words. The Bella I know kicks ass verbally and takes names."

_He's right. I do kick ass verbally. _

"It's not my fault." My voice was little more than a timid squeak.

"Do it again, Swan. Picture James' hideous face and verbally kick his ass for doing this to you."

"It's not my fault!" I said a bit heatedly.

"Better, Bella, better. One more time, this time use a curse word."

I braced myself. "It's not my fucking fault!"

_Wow that actually felt good__. __Again. Here's the windup… and the pitch... _

"It's not my fucking fault, you cock-sucking monster!"

When I looked at Edward with a triumphant grin, he had a rather shocked expression on his face.

"Was that too much?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he said with deliberate verbal irony. "I'm going to go get a bar of soap." We both laughed, again.

"Edward? I'm so tired. This day has been… epically long and emotional, and my eyes are beginning to burn. Even though we've had this…important stuff to do - I still have an eight hour shift at the clinic and a lunch date with Alice tomorrow, and that means - another long day. Do you mind if I kick you out?"

"Kick away. You're absolutely right. Time to go. Mustn't overstay my welcome. I want to get asked back, right?" He smiled at me. "Lock up, after?"

Before I knew it, I was in bed asleep, psychotic cats be damned!

**AN: So what do you think? I'm not real fond of the P-word because I think it demeans a good thing…But Bella's subconscious is a potty-mouth. There was nothing to be done for it. Sorry if it was too much. **

**I assume most everyone got the reference to the movie **_**Borat.**_

**After writing this chapter, I noticed a few details in the dream sequence that might have additional meaning. Did you pick up on anything?**

**Vote your take on this chapter by clicking the review button below. **


	8. Buttermilk Spice Muffins

**AN: The response to the last chapter was very reassuring! Thank you so much for letting me know I didn't plunge off the deep end there. To all you reviewers …Thanks! You're totally awesome.**

**The latter author's note has answers to any of your symbolism questions from chapter 7 for those of you who want to know what I was thinking.**

**Warning: Masturbatory Shower Lemon dead ahead! Steer clear if that's not your thing.**

From Chapter 7:

"Kick away. You're absolutely right. Time to go. Mustn't overstay my welcome. I want to get asked back, right?" He smiled at me. "Lock up, after?"

Before I knew it, I was in bed asleep, psychotic cats be damned!

Chapter 8 Buttermilk Spice Muffins

Thursday

EPOV

Waking up after actually sleeping instead of pacing and pulling your hair out sure has its rewards. My treadmill and boxing bag also got a bit of a respite from the constant abuse.

Two - that magical and elusive number. I'd finally attained it.

_So this is what "normal" feels like. Who am I kidding? I'll never be totally normal; I'll always have to be cognizant of my limitations. _

_Yes, but at least you can be with Bella, and you won't send her running for the hills. Bella. God am I glad I didn't allow Emmett's devolved ass to keep me from taking a chance on the most wonderful person on the planet. I don't care if that sounds totally Hallmark card of me… I can be as lame as I want - no one can hear me. _

_Hallmark. Harrumph. Don't girls live for that kind of thing? Maybe I should mix things up. I wouldn't want to be predictable. I should give her something else, and then the third installment of flowers will feel like a surprise again. Buying a card for her means I have to brave a drug store full of…weird, ogling, tampon purchasing women. The grocery store is even worse…weird, ogling, baby toting, adulterous women. Gagg. The lesser of two evils it is. _

_I'd better get up then. I still have to meet with Professor Carlson about the mock geological report for the new cathedral blue print assignment. _

I rolled out of bed, smoothing the covers back up so I wouldn't have to bother later. Yawning and scratching my neck, I walked through my bedroom into my private bathroom. The bathroom was part of what had sold me on leasing this apartment. It was large and recently modernized with slate tile and new bronzed fixtures. The window above the commode let in hazy light through frosted glass. The floor tiles were cold as I walked into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, used the toilet, and got myself undressed.

_Open office hours instead of class totally rule. Shower on. T-shirt hoop shot into laundry bin: two points! Black boxer briefs in a rubber band sling shot: lands in toilet... Doh! Ugh…Reach in with bare hand to retrieve skivvies? _

_Well, you certainly can't flush them, dumbass. _

_Bare hand? In Toilet? _

_Use the toilet scrubber wand! _

_Brilliant. Aha! Crisis averted. Soggy shorts in sink. Shower in a minute, water still cold._

I took a few steps toward the mirror.

_Do I need to shave? _

_Do you want to shave? _

_Hey. I don't have those light purple bags under my eyes anymore. Hmm. _

_Get a move on, Edward…don't want to be too late. _

I stood for a moment before walking through the threshold of the shower.

_What is it about steaming water and shampoo that always makes me think about Bella?_

It's because this shower stall is big enough for two and it has that damn slate bench in the corner. It's because eventually you want to get her in here and find out if her feminine lips are as heavenly as the only lips you've actually tasted on her.

And I had instant wood. I stepped past the glass door and under the spray. Adjusting the temperature, I quickly soaped and scrubbed my unruly hair.

_Surely if Bella were here she would try out the bench… I mean, just to be polite and all. _

Images of her lovely form, here with me, appeared in my head while I rinsed my hair. I squeezed a bit of body wash into my palm and soaped my neck and chest. The movie in my head played vividly. My manhood twitched in anticipation.

_Bella perches on the edge of the wet tile seat, smiling at me in welcome. I step to her, the steam and water spraying all round us. She pushes her long brown hair off her face and her breasts sway gently in response to her movements. My eyes on her chest cause her to blush and her nipples to peak. _

My soapy hand strayed south to take hold of my erection. My left hand braced my weight against the wall of the shower while the images continued, and I got impossibly harder still.

_I grin at her; she grins back, and I kneel on the shower floor before her. She leans down to kiss me, totally confident in my desire for her. I take possession of her soft, hot mouth. She moans; I pull her body to the edge of the tile bench and cup my hands around her smooth cheeks. She slides her hands down over my back, her nails scraping lightly. I lift a nipple into my mouth and suck while stroking her wetness until she bites her lower lip and moans. I suck harder, swirling my tongue in counterpoint to my circling fingers. Gasping moans are now coming from her elegant throat. _

Those sounds of erotic rapture urged me on. I changed the grip of my hand focusing on the head, and increased the speed of my self-manipulation.

_I kiss my way down her torso, kneeling lower until I reach the smooth skin at the top of her thighs. I drink the water gathered in droplets and lick my way to her soft curls. My hand on her chest gently presses her back into the wall. I dive in and give her a first taste. My mouth drinks of her. I suck on her most sensitive place and her back arches, her legs fall to the side of their own volition, opening her further to my lips, her delicate brows wrinkled in divine pleasure and ecstatic innocent confusion…Those sweet little mewling moans slip past her throat while my lucky head moves rhythmically between her accommodating thighs. A single digit strokes her heat; she's crying out with pleasure for the first time! You're the one who brought her here…she trusts you, loves you, she is so happy to be here…_

I stroked my throbbing shaft in timewith the cries in my head, rubbing my thumb over the sensitive skin on the head on each upstroke. I was starting to pant in rhythm with the strokes.

_She tastes like salted honey and nature's elixir. Fucking nectar. I could drink this for breakfast for the rest of my life. My skilled thumbs tweak and gently manipulate her rosy bundle of nerves. She's getting close…Her moans are music in my ears, as I insert a finger and then another, and begin to gently pump them inside that hot channel, my mouth suckling gently on her clit, lapping, stroking with my tongue.... my name rips from her lips in a loud moan, as she clenches hard around my fingers, releasing more of that sweet nectar that is suddenly the sole fulfillment of my need for sustenance, and I eagerly lap it up._

I gasped, my hand stroking ever faster as I felt the tension gather in my lower back, as it reached throughout my abdomen and concentrated in an aching pleasure. My brain froze on an image of Bella's raptured face, and I loudly moaned her name as the tight coil released and my seed spilled from my throbbing length and into the water, swirling down the drain. I grunted, still panting, and leaned my forehead against the wet tile, feeling like a hurricane survivor.

_Geez… catch breath… That was intense. _

My lungs heaved to restore oxygen to my body; I gave myself one last rinse before turning off the water and exiting the shower stall. I shook the water from my head before opening the glass door. I reached for the towel hanging on the bar and began drying off.

_I wonder if we'll ever get there - get past the nightmares and the horrible things that shithead did to her. She did get aroused at that Chicken Place. Wonder what brought that on…why there of all places? Wonder if she's thinking about me_….

Rubbing the moisture from my ears and hair, I walked back into my bedroom and selected something to wear from the closet.

_Dressed in jeans and t-shirt…check. Probably not. She's probably still asleep. My girl loves to sleep. We're going to totally fire that long pillow thing and take over that job ASAP. Ugh, not again__. _

An image of Bella sleeping on my midnight blue sheets appeared in my head. She was sprawled out on her stomach with her heart-shaped ass tilted to the side in those red polka dot panties and wearing my 'Rolling Stones' t-shirt.

_And we have trouser tent number two. Do I have time to kill this damn thing on the treadmill? It's going to be damn uncomfortable. I don't have time to jerk off again. Mind over matter, mind over matter. Heart rate's picking up. What time is it? Shoot, shoot, shoot. I need to get out of here…emergency plan…_

I grabbed my tennis shoes, my shower towel and a pair of socks. After standing on a towel full of ice cubes for five minutes….I defeated trouser tent number two.

_Ha! Take that you rabble rousing enemy dick! Now stay down!_

BPOV

The morning at the clinic had been hectic. Ace and TJ _both _had puppies.

_How the hell did that happen? Who on earth purchases two canines and then goes six months without knowing they have two female dogs. That doesn't even take into account that they chose not tot get them spayed or neutered!_

_And the irony of it all…A lesbian couple… well acquainted with …uhh… female anatomy and the ladies don't bother to check under the tail… ever? _

_No fricking way._

_Maybe new dog owners? Never had a dog before? Perhaps raised in a household of no pets or just felines? Ugh... felines…damn annoying meddling screeching furballs…_

_When is the aftermath of that damn dream going to fade?_

_When you've dealt with the issues lying behind it._

_You mean I'm going to have feral cats chasing me around day in and day out until I learn how to double click my mouse? _

_Pretty much, yes. Learn how to double click your mouse and feed it a piece of cheese. A very enticing piece of cheese. _

_Ack! Shut up! _

"Arrrrghhhh."

"Everything okay Bella?" Julie, the groomer who was also a good friend, eyed me in concern.

"Just arguing with myself a little bit," I evaded gently.

"Let me know if I can do anything to lighten the load, okay?"

"I'm actually on my way out. I have a lunch date with a friend," I said smiling.

One eyebrow shot up in question on Julie's mischievous face. "Male friend?"

"Well, I, uh," I said awkwardly. "I'm sort of in this new thing." I scrambled for a way to explain, and then realized that there was no need to tell Julie everything.

"Bella! You have to dish, girl. What is he like? Is he cute? Oh, I'm so happy for you!"

Julie's gushing effusiveness was making me slowly back away towards the glass door. She had too many questions and wanted too many details, making me cringe. I settled for telling her his name.

"I'll tell you a little bit about Edward the next time we have a shift together, okay? I'm actually going to lunch with my best friend Alice, and I'm pressed for time."

"I'm looking forward to it, Bella! See you soon," she called out to me as I turned and pushed through the exit doors, waving. Pulling my keys out of my bag, I walked across the parking lot over to my car.

I had the drive over to Mimi's Café in Los Angeles memorized. I drove the simple turns and slipped on my sunglasses at the first light. A quick side street route got me there faster. The tree echo location route was simple- Twin Pine Alley North to Oak Tree Lane East. Travel five miles past the Hakuna Matada Tree, we couldn't figure out what kind of tree it was, and take a left on Magnolia Tree Lane. Mimi's was the cream colored cottage with thatched roofing and a kaleidoscope of flowers surrounding the terraced patio. Small groups of business men and women restraining children loitered under the striped awnings.

I tossed my sunglasses in the console, locked up the car, and walked through the heavy oak doors to the hostess stand. A blond hostess with stupid puffball ponytails beside her ears led me to my seat in the French themed Garden Room. I slid over the burgundy bench and admired the blue cobalt fountain in the center of the room filling the large space with the soothing sounds of bubbling water. Stone cats nestled in the base of the fountain were interspersed with Egyptian Lily of the Nile plants.

_Damn cats! Can't a girl get a moments peace?_

I pressed my thumbs against my temples hoping to push the image of the cats out of my head.

_Make them go away...._

"Bella!" I quickly stood up to receive the ball of wiggling, hugging energy that was Alice. Knowing time was short; we slid into the bench seats and got settled. I had already ordered our petite Chinese chicken salads, Buttermilk Spice Muffins, and Passion Fruit Iced Teas. We now had forty-five minutes to chat it up before the sprint fest back to work.

She had some sort of cellophane clothing bag with her- she had draped it over the top of the privacy partition. I squinted my eyes at her suspiciously.

_Alice, what have you done?_

She looked back at me as if to say, "What?" with totally fake innocence. We have these silent conversations from time to time as a result of knowing each other forever. Alice has seen me through everything - absolutely everything, from playground disputes to practicing bad words, through puberty, sexual assault, sexual success, on her part at least, and now this latest development in my life. I can't imagine going forward with any of the plan without consulting Alice a little.

"So I met someone."

"Oh. You got someone to fix that leaky faucet in the kitchen?" she expressed with partially concealed annoyance - being deliberately difficult.

_I knew I was going to have to pay for not finishing that text message thing._

"Aaaaalllice," I whined.

"Belly-Beaannnsss," she whined back.

I smirked at her, and her use of my long-established nickname. Knowing she wouldn't give up until I told her everything, I quickly summarized how we met, the coffee shop, the agreement to help each other, and we hit a snag.

"Wait," she interrupted me. "Help each other? I don't understand Bella."

I didn't want to go into all the embarrassing details that were Edward and Bella. She just needed to know that I was working on this, so that we could talk about stuff. Edward trusted me… I thought this was on a 'needs to know' basis.

"So he knows your whole history… all three losers plus James the Pond Scum? He knows there a chance that you won't open up the pet store?"

_Why must I be plagued with vulgar animal imagery ALL DAY LONG?_

I ate some of the sugary crust off the top of my spice muffin before answering.

"Yes, Alice. That's what I just said. Ear wax lately?" I said in response to her pet store dig. She knows I hate that crap given my issues, and the fact that I work with pets.

"You know I'm going to have to vet him. Check his teeth and such," she said, spearing a mandarin orange and some marinated chicken.

"Alice… he's not a racehorse…or a sex slave…you read too much erotica."

"When can we meet him?" She asked excitedly. " Jasper has been asking how you're doing, you know. We need to have Friday night drinks again sometime soon. Now that I'm finished at FIDM, and I'm sending in my application papers to UCLA, we'll have more time to do stuff."

"Congratulations on the AA degree, by the way. Do you see any problems getting into UCLA's Business Admin program?" I said crunching into a wonton crisp.

"It's nothing I can't handle. We have things to discuss other than school, and we only have…twenty minutes left. Talk with food in your mouth, please."

We dug into the best salads next to The Chicken Place.

"So where is he taking you on that date that I saw?"

"What date, Alice?" I asked, my face a blank slate of confusion. I wanted to know what she saw, and sometimes the evil pixie is not as forthcoming as she could be.

"But I was sure that I saw you! It was clear… I had visual details!" Alice looked at me as if I had sprouted another head. I suppressed a smile at her reaction.

_Aha!_

"Saw me where, Alice? You're going to have to be more specific. I don't speak ambiguous pixie fluently."

She squinted her eyes and began to tell me her vision. "You're at some sort of metal fifties style table…you know the kind with the concentric rings on the side? The two of you are eating ice cream out of a waffle cone and laughing and making a mess - having a blast basically. You, of course, are wearing the outfit I designed for you to my exact specifications," she stated with a pleased little genie head bob and a dimply grin, and pointed to the bag draped over the partition.

_That explains the cellophane. Should I be scared? What torturous creation has she dreamed up this time?_

"He can't take his eyes off of you. Not your body… but your face…your lips… the things you're saying…he doesn't talk to your breasts or your ass once, Bella. You don't finish your ice cream… the ice cream is unimportant… it's the company that captivates the two of you."

"Wow, Alice. You've never had one so clear before." I sat in my chair, stunned, while the vision ran around in my head. It sounded so promising, and I found myself really looking forward to the date with Edward.

"I know! And you!" she said, throwing a piece of walnut at me from atop her muffin. I ducked, laughing.

_Pixie wrath is so fucking funny._

"You make me wait from Monday morning until Thursday lunch? What. W_alnut. _The. _Parsley Sprig._ Hell." _Ice Cube. _

"Alice! Quit it. The management is going to bogart our salads and kick us out of here…Think of the muffins! Please Alice…the muffins," I wailed dramatically, just a hint of a tear drop in my voice. She giggled of course - which is exactly what I intended.

"So, does he like you, Bella? Can you tell if he really does?"

Alice's eyes were wide and shining, and I knew just what to give her to answer her questions. I pulled the notes from the flowers out of my purse and let her read them, saying nothing. She looked up with tears in her eyes and a hand over her heart.

"Totally unfair! I don't even have any more shit to throw at you. Of course I'm happy for you, Bella, but this is just too fairy-tale to be true."

"I know! My chest was aching in the worst way, and I didn't know I was crying until the droplets hit my chest a few times."

"Awwwwww, Bella!" She giggled and wiggled with pleasure.

"How much do you like him, Bella? I mean…is your heart on the line? Are you at risk of falling in love with him?" She didn't let me answer which was good, because I didn't know exactly how to answer. But Alice being Alice - she knew exactly how to hone in on my sensibilities.

"What would you give up to be with him? I mean what you would be willing to forgo forever in order to be his?"

_This answer is big. We've actually talked about this before. I mean, this is Mimi's Café. This is our place. _

"Alice," I said, building the drama. "I would swear off Buttermilk Spice Muffins for him."

Her eyes grew really round and her mouth formed a small 'oh.' I wasn't done. "For life."

"No!" she gasped.

"Yes!" I smiled.

"No fricken' way!"

"Yes fricken' way!"

Alice stared at me in utter disbelief. The grin on my face grew unbelievably larger.

"There's more, Alice." Her eyes got even bigger, and I could tell she was squirming in her seat trying not to say 'what, what, what' like a little kid_. _

"We've kissed." I let that bomb drop.

"Twice."

_This next part is going to flip her lid._

"We made it to church tongue." I had to lean over and place a restraining hand over her mouth, as Alice noises of shock echoed throughout the Garden Room.

I calmly went back to eating my salad and sipping my tea. She was going back to eating again, too. When she had finished her bite, I said almost as an afterthought, "And my lady parts work."

Her fork hit the pink china dish with a clatter as her eyes rolled back in her head. Alice fainted - dead away.

_Damn. I'm going to be late for work._

"Check, please!"

**A/N: **

**In regard to the dream sequence stuff - when I wrote that chapter… It just seemed to happen, and I went back to read what flew together, I actually saw some unintentional symbolism on my part.**

**The symbolism of the calendar is this: Bella is alone on a national holiday at work. No one else comes in to tend the animals because they all have families and lives and somewhere to be. Bella has isolated herself to the extent that all she has left is a bunch of angry screeching cats…all because she won't deal with her own caged "cat." wink* wink***

**I noticed later that I used the number fourteen on the cage in the vet clinic. Fertility? Half way through a twenty-eight day cycle? More cat/ovary connections I suppose. A reader made note that the number is also her age at trauma. I didn't even think of that. Props to acinad for being so sharp.**

**So this chapter is a wee bit shorter than the last few because I just couldn't mess up the rhythm there at the end…**

**FIDM is the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising – one of many locations around Southern California.**

**The next chapter is part one of the day time date. Reviews are better than Buttermilk Spice Muffins…**


	9. Preparations

**AN: Thanks to some messages from acinad, I don't think I will ever be able to eat a chicken croissant sandwich again without giggling like a loon.**

**This was going to be the day time date, but it got away from me somehow. I guess Bella and Edward needed some kind of ritualistic pre-date bonding shit. **

Chapter 9

Preparations

Friday Evening

BPOV

I was plodding through 'Paradise Lost' while seated on the floor of my apartment. Incubus' 'Love Hurts' was playing quietly in the background while I tried to write an opinion paper on why Satan is a much more appealing character than any other in Milton's epically hard to read poetic masterpiece.

_All this time I've been trying to avoid taking the Lord's name in vain, I should have been cussing out the devil. He has like a jillion names, and he's totally edgy. Why didn't I think of this sooner? _

_Uh. Maybe because you have a five page paper due for Boon's class and you have about one page of absolute drivel written. _

_Focus, Bella. Creative invectives about the Lord of Evil will not get your paper written, or a ticket out of his blasted class. I need some kind of incentive. Maybe if I finish two whole pages, then I can text Edward. _

_That's not half bad, Bella. But no cheating! Don't even look at that phone or get even a snack until you have some seriously innovative shit on paper. _

Two hours later and countless cans of Arizona Diet Green Tea, and I was finally seeing an end to this paper.

_I seriously have to pee. _

_But you get your reward, now. _

_I don't care. I have to pee like a road tripper on a family vacation with a dad from hell. Yes, but you have been sitting here in this same position for so long- will your extremities even function at this point? _

_Who cares? I will army crawl to that toilet at this point. _

I decided to wake up my toes first. Unfolding my legs from their cramped and bloodless position allowed me to lean backwards and side-butt-wiggle out from behind the coffee table. I was actually in the washroom when I heard a chirp from my phone.

FROM ALICE:

HAVE YOU EVEN LOOKED AT THE OUTFIT I ORGANIZED FOR YOU?

_Hmmm…Do I lie or tell the truth?_

_Lie or Truth? Honest and virtuous, or blatant dissembler? Neither…_

_Misdirection! _

FROM BELLA:

ALLIE 3 DO YOU THINK I CAN GIVE EDWARD FULL TONGUE TOMORROW, OR IS IT TOO SOON?

_If I know my flitter bug Alice at all, she won't be able to resist that one. _

FROM ALICE:

STOP. TRYING. TO DISTRACT ME! CLOSET. OUTFIT. NOW!

_Damn! Foiled by the insightful pixie. _

I was actually a little bit scared. If I wasn't careful, she'd come over here and plan a 'Wedding Singer' Kiss Research Night just to punish me for not doing a damn dress rehearsal with her pin up girl outfit, or was it goth hottie again this time? I forget….

FROM ALICE:

AT LEAST LOOK AT THE FOOTWEAR, BELLA. I HAD A SHOEGASM WHEN I FOUND THESE FOR YOU ALMOST FOUR MONTHS AGO! DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND MY WORLD AT ALL?

_Footwear? What footwear! She gave me a plastic garment bag that was knotted at the bottom. How did she manage to sneak a set of uncomfortable shoes past me?_

FROM BELLA:

OBTAINING MERCH. NOW. STOP WHINING. LOVE YOU.

I waited for my phone to ring. This was the routine. She pestered me until she got what she wanted, and then she thought she was 'placating' me out of my mad with an actual phone call.

I tried to affect an especially pissed off tone; I huffed, "Hello Alice."

"Bella, can you see them? They're at the bottom of the garment bag - candy apple red espadrilles in a mid heel. You can totally walk in those all day. Bring a band aid with you in the matching purse because I see you getting a blister on the back of your left heel."

_Lord love Lucifer in a yellow thong!_

I walked through my bedroom threshold and opened one of the sliding doors on my closet. Hanging next to the few dresses that Alice had managed to maneuver into my wardrobe, was the garment bag from yesterday. The outfit occupied the top. Near the bottom above a big knot she'd tied in the cellophane were the shoes and a matching woven purse in the same straw color – I hadn't even seen them other than to absentmindedly note the bag was rather heavy.

"Alice, why are you making me wear shoes that you know are going to cause broken skin? What if I'm going to a park, or a mall-somewhere with germs? I could get a gangrenous viral something or other and then die tragically a twenty-three year old virgin! Do you really want my stinky, untouched corpse on your conscience?"

"Edward will keep you safe from any virgin-defeating bacteria, Bella. Have some faith. I haven't even met him, and I like him already. Surely nothing horrible is going to happen."

"I like the cream clam digger pants, Alice. Does this mean I need to dig for clams at some point, or is that another not so vague reference to my nether regions?" Choked laughter was my reward.

_I unseated Alice I think. Either that or she spewed something. The girl cannot hold her fluids at all. _

"Hold the red lace camisole up to your face and see what it does to your cheeks, Bella."

"I'm hanging up now, Alice."

"Wait. Wait a cotton-picking minute Bella! I kicked your ass in third grade and I can do it again!"

"Do you intend to build an escalator first, Alice? Last time I checked you couldn't reach, unless you're merely aiming for a few well placed ankle bites," I taunted her mercilessly.

"Fine then. Don't paint your toe nails Hot Cherry Red. Edward is going to ask the name of the polish and then he's going to…" She abruptly stopped talking. I waited.

_Surely I can outlast her. _

The phone went dead.

_No! No! No! _

Ugh…I hadn't miscalculated like that in a long time. Shoot!

_Damn the devil wearing Dockers! That is so unfair. Edward is going to…suck on my toes? Eww, not sure if that's even hot. He's going to kiss his way up my legs? Shit. Nah… I doubt he's going there so soon…He's going to…kiss each foot and wrap my legs around his waist while being deliberately provocative? Hmm I like that one. _

I pondered the possibility of that for a few minutes. My phone buzzed. It was Alice. She told me to stop perving and get to work on my toes.

_How does she do that?_

Using deductive reasoning, I began searching through the pockets in the purse until I found a small bottle of shimmering candy apple red nail polish.

EPOV

"You do realize when you marry this girl, you're going to have to name your first born after me, you know," Emmett said while crunching into a tortilla chip, sending crumbs all over the table we occupied at Casa Gamino's Mexican Restaurant.

I rolled my eyes grabbing a chip myself. It was like he became more outlandish in direct contrasting correlation to how much more mature he _should _be. I couldn't believe this man was a sex therapist. I couldn't believe he made it through school. Not that he wasn't smart, he was really smart. I just couldn't conceive how the instructors could put up with his ridiculous hijinks. What rational patient would actually visit him more than once? I know that he couldn't possibly be anything like himself while he was in the office, but I just had this horrible idea of him handing out cock rings and KY to shocked couples in need of actual help. It finally dawned on me that Bella had to see this - doofus in a lab coat - in a week or two.

_Maybe she doesn't need therapy any more?_

_No, therapy is good. Therapy gives her someone to talk to besides Alice and me._

_She needs to fire him posthaste. How can I bring this up to Bella without sounding totally insensitive?_

"Dude. I was totally kidding. What if your firstborn is a girl? Who would name a girl Emmett? Actually, that sounds like one of those creative yuppie names…You know where the parents chose the least feminine sounding name on the planet, like Chandler or Riley? You can start the next yuppie girl name, Edward!"

He was beginning to annoy me at this point. "Why the obsession with babies and baby names, Emmett?"

Emmett actually looked bashful for a moment. He was looking down at his hands, trying to appear serious, but his mouth was twitching into a grin. "Rosie tossed her birth control pills. We're officially trying to get pregnant." He was grinning like a farmer who'd just discovered fertilizer.

"Hey! That's great," I said smiling. "Wow. If things go well, I'll be an uncle soon. So how are you doing? Are you excited or freaking out or what?"

"Both," he replied looking out the window and taking a sip of his Corona. "Sometimes I feel really…Hell, I don't know how I feel. Mostly what you said. So how's it going with my home girl, Bella?" he said changing the subject and guzzling half of his beer in one pull.

"Actually really well. She's starting to trust me to take care of her. I'm not entirely sure she's ever had someone fully be there for her. I loved the flower shop you recommended, by the way. The clerk lady was just like you said."

Emmett grinned like a bear that had just discovered salmon. "So what two words did you pick, man?"

"Innocence and Boldness. That was a pink flower and a white flower."

"Boldness, huh? Care to share anything with brother Emmett?"

"Not especially, bro. It kind of violates the whole kiss and tell clause. Not to mention the weirdness that is having you as her doctor to talk about her PTSD stuff. I'm not even sure you should know about the flowers. It's personal, okay?"

Emmett got serious all of a sudden. I rarely got to see him turn off the idiot so clearly. "I'm actually not asking to pry. Dad said you've been working really hard, and I wanted to tell you how proud I am of your focus, man. Way to kick ass or dick for that matter." he snickered.

_And just like that, Serious Emmett disappears in a cloud of perverted smoke. Poof!_

I took one last swig from my now lukewarm beer. We got up from the table both throwing down some bills to cover the tab. Leaving the restaurant and our cars in the parking lot, we retrieved a basketball and our gym bags from our respective cars. The park wasn't far from the restaurant - walking distance actually.

"You ready to go play some basketball? I'm going to kick your pansy architect hiney, Edward." I threw the ball at Emmett without warning. He caught it, just barely, before dribbling it down the sidewalk.

"Bring it, Dr. Love. Ten bucks says I've run circles around your lumbering butt before the sun even sets. And what man says hiney? What are we, in KinderCare?"

"Can't take that bet," Emmett rumbled with arrogance. "I don't want to see you cry when you lose." Emmett spun the ball on his finger like he was a fricking globetrotter.

_Show off._

"You know what you remind me of, Emmett? You're one of those partially formed toe nubs on that 'Mystery Diagnosis' show." I stole the ball, and bounced it diagonally through my legs while keeping pace with him. "You're a toe nub with extra fungus," I determined.

"Don't get your panty liner in a twist, Edward, just because I'm better than you athletically and sexually." My eyebrows shot up at that one. I must have looked a bit shocked. He cleared his throat, eyebrows raised, clearly waiting for my comeback.

"You really should stop wearing those ape pheromones you stole from the zoo. Oh wait? Is that your natural stench?" I sniffed and grimaced. "I brought some brillo pads for you in my gym bag. While you're at it, you can try to scrub off the ugly, dude."

"Unibrow" hurled Emmett.

"Oversized dork" I returned.

"Undersized wimp" he countered.

"You really should consider a personality transplant," I said, moving away from size before it went south of the border. It's not that I was deformed; Emmett was just a freak of nature.

"You already had to get one. You should know, and you really should learn how to stop wetting the bed."

"I only wet the bed when I sleep in your guest room and it's not pee." We both groaned at that one. Cringe-worthy. This game we like to play is actually harder than it looks. We share and adore the same mother. So mama jokes were not allowed. We started our game of hoops now that the walking was over.

"Thanks, Emmett."

"You're totally welcome, Edward." And then he threw the basketball at my head. I caught it and then proceeded to kick him clear into next Tuesday. He may have had a few inches on me, but he was not nearly as fast as I was, or as motivated. I really wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off of his face. I've always excelled at three point shots as well.

It wasn't long before we were sweating from running up and down the court. Taking a break for some water, I hunched down to retie and tighten the shoelaces on both of my sneakers. When I rolled back up, he was zipping his gym bag and then guzzling water. We had both decided it was getting late when I accepted my reward for winning the game forty-five to his pathetic thirty points. My reward was bragging rights until we managed to do this again and a hard punch to the arm. Needing to get back at him for his below the belt comment about my man skills, I restarted the insult bandying.

"You know Emmett, I may be sexually inferior, but I can be retrained. Your athletic skills are so instinctively bad, I don't think there's any hope for you. You should just give up and enroll in a combo baking and knitting class." He laughed out loud at that one. "Yeah, Bitch," I said, continuing. "You can bake me a pie and then knit me a sweater."

"You seem a little irritable, Edward. You got some sand in your vagina?"

We were walking back to our cars at this point; the setting sun transformed the skyline into hazy grey-blue darkness. I tossed my bag into the trunk of my car. "I don't have sex on the beach in public for pay like you do, Emmett, and last time I checked, your man boobs were sagging. It's time to get a new bra for those, bro."

"Okay, okay, stop ogling my goods," he said sounding exasperated. "Are you really going to make me give you ten bucks?"

"Nah, just put it in the beer fund," I said magnanimously.

"All right. Beer's on me next time," he muttered, clearly still pissed about losing.

We got into our individual cars and drove away. I was driving North on the 405 when I saw the glowing red logo for Mimi's Café. I made a quick detour to pick up a four pack of my favorite muffins before speeding home. I stashed them in the oven to keep from inhaling one of them.

It wasn't until ninety minutes later that I found it. I had already showered, changed clothes, and consumed a liter of water. The sweat towel and workout shirt were on top of my extra set of cross trainers in my gym bag. I was taking everything out to throw the whole mess in the wash. The canvas zip bag wasn't empty.

_Odd._

I gave the bag a shake. Something slid to the other end. I reached inside and retrieved a book.

_What the hell?_

Turning the thing over, I held in my hand a medium sized hardbound book with a glossy dustcover. There was a runner in mid stride on the front and the title, 'Finishing the Race on Your Own Terms'.

Intrigued, I judged the book by its cover. Someone had given me a jogger's guidebook? My head was starting to pound in shocked confusion. I opened the front cover. There was a piece of notebook paper folded in half and tucked under the inside edge of the dustcover. I flipped forward to the title page. There was a more specific, longer title on that page.

'Finishing the Race on Your Own Terms: A Discreet Sexual Manual for Men'.

My reaction was torn in several directions. I still hadn't absorbed the reality of this gym bag parlor trick of a book. Then I didn't know whether to be amused, or angry at the meddling, or grateful for the thoughtfulness.

_It has to be Emmett __- __I mean, I was just with him. He snuck this into my gym bag when I was tying my shoelaces._

It was thoughtful because I could read this book anywhere. It even fooled me! I thought someone was telling me to consider jogging as a new hobby. Then I began to laugh.

_Jogging…racing…finish line…finishing the race…losing the race…finishing dead last…finishing too fast…ahh, there we go - premature ejaculation._

Standing alone in the hallway between my bathroom and the laundry nook, I was blushing beet red and cracking up.

_Emmett knows what you're facing, and he wants you to do well, that's all. Carlisle would never bring this up unless you mentioned it first. How did he know exactly what my issue is?_

_He's a sex therapist, too. He understands the ins and outs of your disorder. Most likely, he read up on that case study looking for related problems. He's apparently rooting for both you and Bella. He must be freaking out a little, too. He's seen you excited about the possibility of a new relationship, and then the depression that sets in when everything falls apart. He's almost as invested in this as you are. Well, to an extent..._

I suddenly remembered the handwritten note.

**Edward,**

**Don't be upset. I searched and searched for a book that you could read on campus in between classes as I know your schedule gets busy at times. Chapter ten looks like it might be especially relevant. I don't know where you and Bella are in your relationship, and my timing might be way off. I wanted you to have this because I know talking to Dad and me can be both helpful and strange. When you get there, you might even let Bella read any chapter you think necessary. Trust armed with information and acceptance is the key to getting what you want.**

**Good Luck,**

**Emmett **

_He mixed his metaphors a little bit there, but I know exactly what he means. Another dose of entirely serious Emmett. He must have hurt himself restraining the dick jokes for that long. I am both cursed and extremely fortunate._

I quickly made a sandwich with mustard, turkey, and wheat bread. Intrigued, I flopped onto the couch in the living room and began to read.

**AN: So there you have it. Poor Edward, as this story progresses, the man gets more and more screwed up. I'm working towards something good, I swear. I do believe in some forms of HEA, but not without working for it. **

**If you really want someone to blame for Edward's latest issue, the idea came from my beta,****TwilightMomofTwo. I think it will make for very honest and tender love scenes when we get to them. I'm fairly certain I can write those. It's the masturbatory shower stuff that makes my brain wires cross.**

**There are two lines on the basketball court that are not mine. The reference to baking a pie and making a sweater belongs to the **_**South Park**_** writers. The line following immediately after about sand was borrowed from them as well. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Here's another bit of meaningless trivia: I took Milton in college instead of Chaucer. Dr. Boon is entirely stolen from a lovable/hateable Southern Gentleman Professor named Dr. William Coon. The man was 60 years old minimum, dressed like Colonel Sanders complete with black neck bow, and played in a blue grass jazz band of all things. The yelling Bella received in the previous chapter was what I took from him on a daily basis. Dr. Dietrich is real too. She was my salvation whenever Dr. Coon made me want to cry and switch my major to waitressing for life. He did make me learn to answer declaratively, however…jerk.**


	10. Morning Amusements

**AN: Not sure how you feel about "revisiting content" to quote Insatiable Sexward for a second. Ten chapters are reposted with quite a few things altered. The story is almost completely beta-ed with just a few chapters to go until completely caught up.**

**TwilightMomofTwo is doing a really thoughtful job of asking me the right questions to clarify things and it's improving the accuracy of the story, so to speak. **

**There is a bit of narration and internal monologue that has been added. Take a look if it's not too tedious for you. I forget you haven't read the thing ad nauseum like I have. Oh, and apparently I don't have overactive comma disorder; I have illogical spelling arrogance and a bit of pig headedness. **_**(My words. Not hers, she would never be so ungracious…she is the soul of graciousness.)**_

No snippet from a previous chapter this time. Although, we left Edward reading that "Running" book.

Chapter Ten

Morning Amusements

Saturday Morning

EPOV

7:20 AM

_Wrapping paper sucks. Whoever came up with this crap should be…keel hauled or something. I have officially managed to tear what seems like ten reams of this brown butcher paper, and taped two fingers together. What does mom do? I think she twists the ends and tapes them… That doesn't look right. Ehh. Fuck it. She's just going to tear the paper off anyhow. I can tie a bow, can't I? Stupid slippery twine shit. Try tightening the bow without your finger stuck, moron. There. It's done. It's a nightmare – it looks terrible. A four-year old could have done that better, no doubt. Oh well.__It's the thought that counts, right?_

BPOV

7:45 AM

At least Edward knew how much I hate early mornings already. Evan from work contacted me to let me know he was back. Ready for a break from so many extra shifts, I offered him this morning's shift last night via text. I also let Edward know my morning had suddenly changed. He muttered something about mouse ears and then said good night rather abruptly. I hope everything is okay.

So I finally get around to unwrapping Alice's carefully selected outfit. I know it will be perfect for me; that's why I don't _need_ to drool over it ahead of time. She does need some verbal and visual praise. So I got ready and took some pictures of myself to send to her.

_Why am I taking a picture of my own ass again? Oh yeah, because Alice would want to know the "line" of the slacks. Pshaw! The girl is a nut. _

Standing in front of the mirror behind my bedroom door, I took stock of Alice's work. She found some kind of tight navy blue sparkle- woven sweater with an oversized V that dipped down to my belly button. Underneath was that red lace trimmed camisole she said would flatter me. I liked the pants because they were comfy. It was this odd pearlized stretchy cream fabric.

_I've never seen anything like this before. Alice would say, "Dahling, it's Donna Karen, of course it's fabulous!" _

_Next up is lotion and shoes. Gotta love that Strawberries and Champagne Body Butter stuff. If I could shrink myself, I'd hop into the jar and swim around in it. How do I tie these long red satin straps? I guess around my ankles a bit. There._

Alice gave me some crazy picture of some non-lesbian, girl-kissing singer who's supposed to be really hot - Katy something. Anyhow, I was totally not going to try to do some 50's pinup girl makeup. I did curl my hair a little bit, however, and it fell in soft waves. Clear lip gloss and mascara was enough.

_Okay, enough vanity. I'm supposed to do so__mething else though. What is it? Hmm…Oh yeah, it's that handbag thing. She's right - it does match the shoes, and it has a longer over- the- shoulder__strap made of that matching red satin stuff, so that my hands can be free. _

I quickly transferred all of my most essential junk into the pockets of the bag.

_Hmm. It all just fist. Thank you Alice, you're not totally evil. What about the band aid thing? This is so weird knowing I'm going to give myself a blister today. What the hell is the precognitive protocol for self-inflicted injuries? Do I just put the damn band aid on my foot ahead of time? Or do I wait until I feel a burning sensation? _

My brain registered three raps on the front door, and with that, butterflies began a circuit around my stomach. My breathing sped up in excitement and I had to remind myself to unclench my hands, and to take measured breaths.

_That's him! Try not to act too excited. _

_Wait, why am I hiding my excitement? I'm totally jazzed! _

_Well, you don't know where you're going…so he's going to know you're this excited just to see him. _

_I don't care. He's cute when he's cocky._

Another set of three sharp raps sounded from the front door.

"Bella, could you open the door? My hands are full, and some lady across the courtyard is staring at me," he said in a slightly elevated voice in deference to what I assumed was the early hour.

_Poor hot guy getting ogled by the nosy flowerpot lady. It has to be her; she has a permanent staring problem._

I reached the door and fumbled with the three locks before I swung it open. My eyes drank in his light blue t-shirt and dark jeans. His hands _were _full. Oddly, he made no move to free his hands. His eyes were moving, but they kept darting back up to my eyes almost as though he were getting distracted by something. He had a backpack and what must be breakfast, and some kind of huge, bizarrely wrapped flat rectangular thing leaning against the wall.

"Hey Sugar Plum," I greeted.

"Tell me that's not the pet name you've settled on. Shoot me now." Walking inside, he settled a paper bag with handles on the coffee table. I couldn't read the logo on the bag - it looked familiar though.

"You prefer Schmoopy ?"

"What the hell does that even mean, Swan?" he asked with an apprehensive look on his cute face.

"Come on in, Hot Pants." His forehead scrunched.

"You're the one wearing hot pants," he said in his defense.

"Actually these things are called clam diggers. It's supposed to be something about how the length is ideal for kneeling in sand or whatever." I eased the backpack off his shoulder. He groaned - the backpack didn't feel heavy.

_That's odd. Why did he just groan?_

"Hi, Edward." I looked up into his green eyes.

"Much better." He smiled at me.

_Gosh you're cute._

"So I'm cute, huh?" he asked with a grin. I slapped my forehead, rather hard.

_When will I remember that my internal monologue is totally broken?_

"Shoot _me _now."

He slid his arms around me and kissed my forehead. I closed my eyes, puckered, and leaned in. He gave me a quick, soft kiss and rubbed my back. He'd already pulled away. I was still leaning, puckering. I looked at him.

"That's it?" I asked, dismayed.

"Food first, make out later."

_Aha!_

"So we're calling it make out now, not sessions or content?"

"We're totally making out now, Swan."

I remembered the thing on the stoop, pulled away to go bring it in, and closed the door.

"What _is _this poor tortured package, and why have you been punishing it with tape? What did it _do_ to you, Edward?"

He looked a bit chagrined. "Uh…I've never really wrapped anything before. My mom, Esme, usually helps me with that sort of thing."

I felt a little bad for teasing him. "I've always enjoyed looking on the inside instead of focusing on the outside."

"I've always suspected that about you, Bella," he said, his eyes crinkling a little bit in the corners when he smiled.

"So are you going to tell me what it is?" I asked curiously.

"It's your second installment of flowers," he stated in a matter-of-fact way.

"Second installment? Is there some kind of schedule?"

"When I found out you've never received flowers, this seemed wrong somehow. I'm just correcting several errors. The other boys were dipshits, remember?"

"And you're definitely _not_ some boyish dipshit, right?"

He feigned looking stern. "Certainly not! I'm a gentleman cowboy architect. Get it right, Swan. I thought you knew things."

I rolled my eyes at him, secretly in total agreement. "So… open it now, or open it later?"

"If you can handle the suspense, we should do that later. We need to eat and then get on the road. We're heading into Orange County," he informed me.

I went over to the bag on the coffee table and froze.

_Mimi's Café._ _No way! Is it?_

I opened up the bag and took out a clear plastic four pack of muffins - all Buttermilk Spice. I sat down with a plop onto my despicable futon. In shock, I reverted into Alice-speak.

"Sit. Couch. Now." He sat, clearly wondering what was going on in between my ears.

_I'll tell you._

"What made you want to get this for breakfast?" I inquired, taking the four pack of muffins out of the paper bag.

"Hunger. I like those things. They have this sugary crust on the top. I got them last night on my way home from playing basketball. I had to hide them so I wouldn't get into them."

_I wonder how that works…don't you know the muffins are there - lurking wherever you just put them?_

We ate, careless about getting crumbs all over the place. I got up to pour us some watery blue fat free milk.

Returning with two glasses, I handed him one and explained how Alice and I have been crushing on those baked goods for the last two years. He laughed at my description of warm sugary goodness. He had a strange look on his face, though.

After a few minutes he put down his muffin and got quiet. He was eating a bite of muffin slowly; I could tell he wasn't thinking of baked goods any more. He was focused, intent.

_I think he's trying to figure out how to change the subject. I wonder is causing that furrow over his brow._

"I don't know why I'm quibbling on what to say. I should just ask you," he stated decisively.

"Yes. Absolutely. You should." I waited patiently. I could literally see him gathering the courage – his facial expression was very easy to read.

"For our next make out session, I would like you to think about what you want to do next, Bella."

_What __**I**__ would like to do? _

_Think, Bella. He is opening up the doors to a sexual candy store. I don't think he's planning on hiding the jolly ranchers from you. What do you want?_

_Uh, M & M's?_

_Totally stupid, Bella. Ask him what is supposed to come next. Ask him!_

_I'm nervous. Shut up. _

_Hell if I know what comes next! I can't even think right now._

Taking a deep breath and trying not to stutter I said, "Well, what are my options? I don't really know what's supposed to happen next."

_Options, Bella? Really? Do you expect him to say, 'press one for breast groping'?_

I sat stiffly, not even resting against the back of the sofa. I leaned forward and let my head drop into my hands. He tentatively laid his hand on my shoulders and I jumped. He soothed his hand up and down my back absently. I glanced over at him through the curtain of my hair. He appeared to be thinking about something. His eyes darted up and then down again as though deliberating a decision. Suddenly inspired, he got up and walked over to the kitchen phone, picking up a notepad and pen I kept there for scratch paper.

"Let me just try this," he said, returning to his spot on the sofa. He started making a listof something. He was sitting on the edge of the sofa while writing on the coffee table. I scooted forward too trying to read what he had so far. He didn't give the thing a title.

_I would have come up with a clever title first, but whatever. Oh! It's a make out session 'to-do' list…_

He started by listing what we'd already done, and I liked that - seeing my little accomplishments with him in ink on paper.

_His list is very…intentionally not vulgar. I think I can spot a few euphemisms. Ppppfft - acronyms even. Who uses acronyms for make out moves? I love the way he thinks…_

- holding hands

- kiss on face

- embracing/ hugging

- exploratory kiss on lips

- passionate kiss on lips

- French kiss

- full body hug (FBH)

- free style kissing

- taking a nap together

- sleepover

- necking

- petting with clothes on

- shirtless hugging

- exploring each other's chests

- straddle kissing

- body massage/foot massage

- naked FBH

- showering together

- mutual pleasure without full sex

- things that go buzz

- oral pleasure

- sex (this has its own list)

_Free style kissing? I don't even know what that one is…Surely that's not a reference to swimming? At least one of us has a clue._

_He's willing to bust out the hardware if need be? Wow, you have to admire his dedication to the cause._

He put the pen down leaving the notepad on the coffee table. "Can we talk about this in a second?" he asked.

"Of course," I responded feeling confused.

He began to speak in a calm, quiet voice. "The goal of our project was to help you achieve orgasm, Bella. I'm supposed to learn how to make both of us happy sexually which means we have to work on our emotions too. I don't think you can have one without the other." He picked up my hand and kissed my knuckles.

_He's charged himself with making both of us physically happy at the same time while tending to both of our emotions. I think he's heaping way too much pressure and responsibility onto himself. I've got to figure out a way to get him to share some of the burden. _

"I've wanted to be in a relationship with you since you asked me on that bench. When you saw me hesitating, or thinking about something, I was not considering things. My mind was already made up. I wanted you; I have feelings for you - deep, crazy affectionate, possessive feelings." He paused to gather his thoughts again.

"I was considering whether or not I could do this _right. _In hindsight, it sounds a little bit foolish on my part to have gotten this far without letting you know how I feel." He angled his body on the couch so that he was facing me - still holding my hand. I took his other hand to give him reassurance.

"I want us to belong to each other. More than that, I want you to be mine. I don't know exactly how you feel, but I'm willing to be yours for as long as you want me. Will you be my girlfriend, Bella?"

'_For as long as you want me'.__There's something there…I don't know what it is, but I need to make a serious effort to ask him about that choice of words._

I didn't realize I'd been holding my breath, sympathetically nervous for him. I allowed myself to breathe and thought about my response. I squeezed his hands and made an effort to really look at him instead of hiding like I normally do.

"Nothing would make me happier than to be yours, because my best hours are spent with you. This will probably sound lame or ridiculous since we've only known each other a short while." I looked at our joined hands for a moment and then looked back into his eyes. "Everything that I do is more fun, more satisfying, and more enjoyable if I get to do it with you." His eyebrows shot up when I said that, and he nodded his head at me. He folded his arms across his chest since I was now apparently talking with my hands.

"I've been able to get all of my tasks done since seeing you on Wednesday; but in reality, I've just been passing the hours until I can be with you again. I told Alice the other day that I would give up those muffins for you, Edward. You are better than my favorite thing – you _are_ my favorite thing." His face turned puzzled at my mention of muffins during an emotional confession, and then his face beamed when I said 'favorite thing'.

"I'm so happy," he said gathering me into his arms and breathing against my temple. "I don't even care about that damn list right now. This project is stressing me out a little. I want to keep moving forward, but I want it to be right for you. So, as awkward as all of this is going to be, and it's going to get very awkward, we're going to talk about this stuff before we do any of it." He kissed me on the lips, as though he could do nothing but that, in that moment.

_I think my heart just melted into a puddle of mush. And that image of the asexual worm with its head buried in the dirt? Damn worm just got baked in the sunlight - it's toast._

EPOV

_Whew. I need more of a plan. I didn't even know I was going to say that. Hey…she said yes! Plans be damned, Edward. Good work! Now get her to talk about how she feels about the plan. Which plan? The plan for the day or the make out thing?_

I lifted my eyes to the clock. 8:30AM. "It's still early, and we have options," I said, thinking out loud again. "So, I'm just going to tell you what I planned, okay? Are you overly enamored of surprises? Will it spoil things if we… I think I need your advice about… actually…"

_Why am I getting so tongue tied? One thought at a time._

"Just tell me, Edward. Use your words. You can't possibly screw this up. You just scored major points with the speech of the century."

"Speech of the century, huh? Are there any prizes for that?"

_Like a kiss under your little ear? I know just the perfect spot._

Bella got this wicked look on her face and started reciting, "All submissions for prizes must be sent in writing before the allotted date. Employees of Swan~ Masen Incorporated are not permitted to enter. Swan~ Masen Inc. is not responsible for…"

_What is this and how does she sound so legal... Employees?_

"There is no cash value for the enclosed coupon…First prize is a kiss on the cheek. There will be one first prize winner. Second prize is a kiss permitted on the neck and shoulders. There will be three second prize winners.

_I'd better win every damn prize then! Three second prize winners? Over my cold, dead, body will there be three knuckleheads having any access to your neck, dammit. That's mine!_

"Third prize, also called the booby prize is…"

The image of her last statement sent my scattered mind into possessive cowboy caveman mode.

_Whoooaaa. Hold on just one damn minute._

Leaning towards her slowly with an index finger crooked, I gently touched her bottom lip and begged her with my eyes to stop.

_Too disturbing. I never know what I'm going to say that will set her off. Mind boggling. I have to ask though._

"What on earth was that? It was very intriguing, although slightly disconcerting. Where did that come from?"

"Well, I had to change the business. It's usually Swan~ Brandon LLC. Alice, my best friend, is starting a bachelor's degree in Business Administration soon. We've been joking around with legal speak lately. You said 'prize' and I just started babbling."

"Please tell me there's no contest and I get all your coupons." We laughed, and I reverted back to our subject from before.

"I think I over-planned our day," I said, chuckling. "I have us going to not one, but two amusement parks and dinner and everything. I think it's going to wear us out, and it's supposed to be about balance, right? I have this unexplainable need to impress you, which is dumb, because we have the most fun when we're doing nothing at all. Don't you agree?"

"Mixing wall paper paste would be fun with you, and I don't even like wall paper," Bella admitted rather puzzled with herself.

"Have you ever mixed the stuff before?" I questioned with a smile in my voice.

"No. But I have this strong instinct that it would still be fun, but only with you."

I slid back into the corner of the couch, pulling away slightly. I wanted her to follow me onto my lap like last time. I gestured with my arm for her to come on over. "Can you grab the list before you climb over here?" She did as requested and then settled in my lap with the notepad in her hands.

_Please don't wiggle that sweet little butt and wake the sleeping beast. _

"I think I know how to modify our date to keep the balance between fun outdoor activities and fun indoor activities."

"Okay. I still don't know what your original idea was."

"We would spend the morning at Disney's California Adventure doing a bunch of kid stuff - _A Bug's Life_ 3-D, carnival games, and basically whatever looks good. There's this ice cream parlor that I want to take you to eventually. But I'm actually thinking of not going to Disneyland so we don't kill ourselves.

"The second park is Knott's Berry Farm. It's smaller, but has cool stuff too. I want to take you to the chicken dinner restaurant. It's legendary. Have you been before?"

She shook her head no.

"Then I propose this - we have our make out session for however much time we want. When your stomach starts to cuss me out, we go to Mrs. Knott's Chicken Dinner Restaurant for lunch. After lunch we check out Knott's, and walk off the chicken for a few hours. Then we head home tired and happy. What do you think?"

"I like it," she said with a shy smile. "I have an addendum. If you don't mind…"

Suddenly quiet, my chatterbox of a girlfriend became almost entirely non-verbal. She picked up the pen and clicked it a few times. She looked up at me, and then back at the notepad in her hands. Finally she underlined something and handed it to me.

"Sleepover?" I stated aloud.

She nodded, biting her lip.

"It's too much, isn't it?" she asked looking down. "It skips a few things from where we are. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. That's just one of the things I think I've missed by burying my head in the dirt. Cuddling sounds great, I could even get my fix of whatever it is that makes you smell so good." She admitted this openly, but couldn't look me in the eye. I tipped her chin back up to see those brown eyes.

"Hey. It's not too much. It's only one or two things down, and _we_ get to set the rules, just you and me. I put the list in that order not to be rigid, but to maybe ease into things for you. You did say 'excruciatingly slow' on that bench, right? That phrase has stuck in my head. That doesn't mean that we can't do what naturally feels appealing to you. Hang the ordered list! Let's do what Bella wants. Sleepover it is."

_Shit. What have I gotten myself into? I'm going to fucking scare her away with two trips to shower and I'll have perpetual wood, and we're not ready for dealing with this yet. I cannot screw this up! What the hell will she think if she hears the treadmill in the middle of the night? I've only barely gotten my act together. What if I do something to her while I'm sleeping? I could set off her PTSD…she might feel trapped under my arm. I don't want her to run screaming from the apartment, alone and scared. You have to prepare her for what's 'normal' for you._

"Edward, what's wrong?" She was trying to smooth out the crease on my forehead with her small, cool fingers.

_That feels divine._

My eyes slid closed.

_Maybe, if she charges me rent I can just take up residence here with her hands rubbing my forehead._

"Bella?" I said opening them once again.

"You need to know some more of my embarrassing stuff before you can spend the night."

"Anything, Edward."

I released a giant pent-up breath of tension. "I'll probably have to shower for a while before we go to bed to take care of things, so that I don't jump you once we lie down. Even then, with you so close and tempting, I'll probably sport another erection again within minutes. I'm not trying to be gross, or objectify you sexually. The damn thing just won't stay down. If I can't get the thing to listen to me, you may even, now get this, see me standing on a towel full of ice. Weird, huh? There's something about the extreme cold temperatures on the sensitive soles of the feet that trick my body into obedience. I try to use it as a last resort though. I'd rather will the thing away than trick it. Mind over matter seems more in control than ice cubes…" I trailed off for a moment, trying to gauge her reaction to this horrid confession of sexual depravity. Her eyes had perceptibly grown wider, but she seemed rather calm, so I felt brave enough to continue.

"I've only recently gotten a better handle on it when I'm alone. You are so sexy and sweet - even when you're not trying to be. I don't think that's sexual obsession speaking. Most of that, what I feel for you, is pure attraction to you. I've never wanted a woman as much as I want you. The other women I've been with have been like crackers and cheese when you are a lifetime buffet. Sorry, about the food analogy." She just smiled and let me continue.

"I could respond physically to them, but everything else about them annoyed me. It was like I knew I shouldn't be there, but I wanted to be normal and experience life. It didn't work, not at all. With you, I'm not constantly pushing aside disgust. I actually crave your personality, your sense of humor. You don't annoy or disgust me at all. That's not to say you can't irritate me, I'm sure you can. It just hasn't happened yet. And I'm sure when you do tick me off; it will be tempered with my real feelings of affection for you."

Bella had been quietly listening this whole time, allowing me to get all of that off my chest. Still looking at her, I saw nothing but eagerness to understand and silent acceptance of everything.

_It actually feels okay to have her know this stuff. She hears what I think are the lowest, most vile things about me, and she just rubs my hand some more. How on earth did she get to be so selfless? It's like she's this giant heart wrapping me in exactly what I need._

"You probably could have told me all that sooner, you know. I know you were not ready, but I think I was," she said calmly, still rubbing my hand with her thumb and then continued after a moment.

"I know you said that this would have to be about me for the first part of things? But Edward, how can this not be about you, too? This is no longer a 'me' or 'you' thing. It's an _us_ thing, right? We're in this together - no quitting on each other and no holding back any more. I think that would actually start to tick _me_ off."

_She's as fierce as you are about wanting full disclosure. _

_Full disclosure sucks. _

_Why can't I do this without revealing all the sordid details? _

_There's no way around it. You'll have to get there eventually._

Instead of bringing up the worst of it, I hugged her closer to me and tucked her head under my chin. She nuzzled her nose into my t-shirt and sighed. Bella shifted after a minute and tossed the pad of paper onto the cushion.

"While I hate to move, I really think I need to get up and stretch or something," she said tilting her head up towards me. I opened my arms, releasing her to get up and tend to things. She headed in the direction of the bathroom. I got up to walk around as well. I ended up seated on one of the barstool at her kitchen counter. After a few minutes, she walked out rubbing what I could only assume must be lotion into her hands. I swiveled around to face her when she walked up to me smelling wonderful.

"You know, Edward, I've always been rather fond of acronyms."

_Here we go. Commence make out session number three, or is it four? Was the first kiss on her porch where I distracted her with talk about video games a make out session?_

I was scratching my head trying to figure things out when she came to stand directly in front of me. With my feet hitched up on the rungs of the stool, I rested my back lightly against the kitchen counter. I surrendered both hands when she reached for them, and entwined our fingers palm to palm, bringing her between my knees. I winked at her, giving her our signal to start the festivities. She released my hands and I placed them on my thighs. She began by kissing my forehead, but this was unlike any chaste peck on the head _I'd_ ever gotten. She was close, really close, her rounded breasts just a breath away from me. Her hands slid across my cheeks to thread through my hair. She tilted my head back slightly to get the angle right. And we were kissing; she was exploring every kind of kiss her brilliant mind could come up with. There was a small peck on the corner of my mouth. Another landed soft and flush against my upper lip.

Then she blew me away. She kissed my mouth open. I don't even know how she did that. Lightheaded and very aware of my pulse, what seemed like all the available blood in my body rushed to my groin. Mindless of her newfound skills, she was already distracted by full possession of my upper lip followed by my lower lip. I groaned and kissed her back, earnestly. Sitting was no longer an option. Chaste, partially open-mouthed kisses were no longer logical in this new world she had created. I stood up slowly, giving her time to absorb the change in our physical proximity.

She mewled an "Mmmm" sound and renewed her attentions with dedication. The tip of my tongue came out to gently taste her lower lip. I went back to kissing, changing the angle when necessary. I did it again, this time tasting her upper lip a little, coaxing her to consider this new step.

She pulled back a little to breathe, I think, and rested her cheek against mine. "I'm not done." she said, "So don't get any ideas about closing the candy store, okay?"

"Of course not," I murmured, inhaling the clean, warm smell emanated from her shiny brown hair. "We have an unlimited supply of candy."

I adjusted the fit of my jeans as discreetly as possible and rubbed my hands up and down her back. She took a step forward until her breasts were a soft pressure against my torso. Her feet in those red sandal things were right between my own well-worn Doc Marten shoes.

"I totally forgot to remind you about the safe word," I remembered out loud. A chuckle escaped me between kisses. "Did you even realize you called for the sheriff last time? You said 'constable' instead of 'custodian.' Even when distracted by something terrible you still manage to be…"

"Wrong? Forgetful?" she managed.

"Even your mistakes are clever." She rolled her eyes.

"So," she began slowly. "I think I have a solid understanding of a full body hug, but I wonder if my definition differs from yours," she finished.

"We get to embrace with more than just our arms," I supplied.

"Are we close to a full body hug like this?" she asked.

"We would have to line up a few more things," I hedged.

"Edward…."

"Bella….Who's coaching whom, huh?"

"You're not the coach. You can't make me run laps. You're my partner in crime. Just…I was going to say grab my ass!" Her head dipped down to rest on my chest. "I'm really glad I didn't blurt that out. That could have been disastrous." I felt like a fool, but oh, it was such a good feeling.

She took a deep breath and said rather quickly, "Do you want to try a gentle butt cupping?"

Neither of us could resist rolling our eyes at having to actually articulate what the average person simply does without words. At least we were still smiling despite the awkwardness of it all. I reached down and drew her hips into me, my hands on the highest part of her hips, barely on her butt at all. To my surprise, her small hands slid around to settle in the back pockets of my jeans. She bit her lip and looked up at me grinning. She ducked her head back down pressing her cheek to my heartbeat. We were close, very close. Too close to deny _anything._ I could feel my hardness nudging her belly. I wondered if she was embarrassed by her tightly pebbled nipples pressing into my chest. Angling my cheek to rest against her temple, I checked to feel if she was blushing.

_Definitely warm. Fucking-A. She's probably warm all over the place right now._

I couldn't resist pulling her into me and sliding my hands down to her well-rounded ass, albeit very slowly. She tilted her head to the side a little, allowing me to inhale the fragrance of the skin on her neck. Pressing a hot kiss to the smooth column I was rewarded with a tightening of her arms around my back. He breasts were flattened against me now. I checked the fit of my arms and hugged her a little bit tighter. She burrowed her head a bit, finding the perfect spot for herself. I rested my head on top of hers and expelled a happy, but drained breath.

"Bella."

"Yes, hon?"

"How well does your ice maker work?"

"Like a charm," she smiled, and then she reached up and kissed me.

BPOV

I was just as relentlessly disciplined with him as he was with me. Even after my mini panic attack in the apartment on 'Olive Eve' as I was calling it in my head, he still made me tell those details about my dad. I was just as strict with him. He didn't use the ice at all after our FBH with trouser contact and butt touching. I did, however, leave the room, to let him work his mind over matter methodology without an audience. It had to be difficult to be different from everyone else without living in a fish bowl.

After about twenty minutes of what he later told me was mostly pacing, hair pulling, and amorous repellent imagery, he came to retrieve me from reading 'Last of the Mohicans' on my bed. I had gotten hot as the AC cycled off and removed the blue sweater. He took one look at me in that red lace camisole and said, "Be back in…ten minutes."

I fiddled with the thermostat, put the sweater back on, and met him in the other room at the appropriate on cue, my stomach started rumbling.

"I think my belly is making up new cuss words, we should go conquer some chicken."

My eyes grew really big as I slapped my hands over my mouth. Words of frantic apology tumbled out of my mouth, my hands raised in the air like a bad guy in a shoot out.

"That was totally a Freudian slip - I swear! I intended no cruel jokes about your chicken! Shit. I did it again." My eyelids squeezed closed, my fists rushed to press against the hollows of my eyes. "Quick! Make a croissant joke and we'll be even. Damn, I feel so mean, why are you laughing?"

He was okay, cracking up really. There was a second after I'd first said it that he looked like I'd punched him in the gut, but my genuine self-disgust with my foot-in-mouth disease was genuine enough to distract him from any kind of hurt feelings.

"Let's go eat," he said. "I have visions of biscuits with blackberry jam dancing in my head. If you don't like this place, it might be a deal breaker for us," he said with mock seriousness.

"Are these shoes okay?" I thought to ask at the last minute. He looked down, tilting his head to the side as he considered.

"Do you have any good walking shoes?"

_Yes! There's my out. If Alice asks, I was just taking the advice of my much prepared boyfriend. Ha! Boyfriend. Take that, all you 'Dr. Frigid Naysayers'.__ How many Doctors told you to consider accepting your situation before you found Dr. Pfeiffer? Two…That would be two totally wrong misdiagnosing losers to add to your list of losers! Bella wins again._

Taking his hand, I led him over to my closet and showed him the lower racks filled with nothing but Vans, Converse, and cross trainers.

"Why the question about those red things? And why are those red things even on your feet in the first place given your…propensity for sneakers?" he asked with puzzlement.

"You just gave me 'my out' with my psychic friend, Alice. She actually had some kind of precognitive vision of this date. She knows what your ice cream parlor at Disneyland looks like, I think. She and I didn't know that the ice cream vision is further in the future."

"It's called, 'Burrrrrbank Ice Cream." He shivered charmingly while explaining.

"Does the place have fifties-style seating?" I asked. "Alice could draw you a picture of the tables with metal sides or something…"

He looked enormously surprised – shocked even. "Yes, it does. The attraction, because this ice cream stand is an attraction in the park, is not far from the entrance to California Adventure. I think they pump the smell of waffle cones from hidden vents. Anyhow, it looks like a train car that has been plunked off the tracks and dropped into the park. It's one of those diner train cars."

I sat down and unwound the satin straps from the red espadrilles. Choosing a pair of white Nike sneakers and a pair of low ankle socks, I got my feet ready to go. My stomach rumbled threateningly.

It didn't take long to throw a pair of pajamas and a tooth brush into a knapsack for our sleepover later. At the last second, I scurried back into the main room and grabbed the notepad, shoving it into my bag. He grabbed the leftover muffins, the wrapped 'flowers', the backpack, and we were on our way. We were in his car, heading down the 5 freeway with the windows cracked when I figured out what was in the torturously wrapped package.

"It's a Georgia O'Keeffe print, isn't it?" I said finally.

"You still don't know which picture I chose or what flower. I have the flower meaning too, just like last time."

"What made you decide to change your flower MO?"

He laughed. "I seriously don't think one arrangement and a picture gives me a flower modus operandi." His voice lovingly clung to those delicate syllables.

_Oh my gosh. Heat just descended into the spot between my legs! I have to get him to say more stuff in Latin. This is as good as when he was talking about getting into my panties at the chicken place. _

Trying to sound blithely calm and random, I asked, "Did you take Latin in high school or something? Your pronunciation is dead on."

"I was premed for a semester before I decided I wanted to build things instead. Latin was one of those prerequisite courses."

"Can you say something else for me in Latin?"

He thought for a moment and then a small smile peeked out before he quickly squashed it. His lip was twitching a little bit - that was his 'tell'. I saved that detail for later.

He pronounced the phrase slowly for me: "Ad praesens ova cras pullis sunt meliora."

_My entire body just tightened and now something just clenched. Holy Hell, if he finds out about this, the balance of power will never shift back to my corner again! _

_Don't say it, Bella. Don't!_

_I have to hear it again! Shut up._

"Again," I sighed, crossing my legs the other way and pressing a hand between my knees.

He repeated the phrase, this time watching me as he said it.

"What does it mean?"

"Eggs today are better than chickens tomorrow. It's the origin for a colloquial saying…rather like the one that goes, 'A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.'"

I didn't hear the rest of what he said because I was laughing as soon as I heard him say 'chickens'. The rest of what he explained sounded like inane mutterings with the last word being 'bush'. It took me a while to get over that one.

"I love that you can say corny things in Latin."

"I think it's just one more thing that makes me odd, really."

"Odd? Why do you think of yourself as strange?" I asked.

"Bella, I am strange. Not only that, my whole family is a little off." He listed a few things in rapid succession, which added together, did sound awfully strange. "There are two doctors in the family, both of whom work in the field of sex therapy. We also have a soon-to-be pregnant female mechanic and occasional racecar driver, and both Emmett and I are adopted. My mom does interior designing for celebrity clients - which makes for some horrendously weird stories. I'm a sexually insatiable male to top everything off. By themselves, each thing is not really such a big deal. Add them all together, and it's a bit _overwhelming._"

"So why were you premed for only a semester?"

"It took me that long to realize that I didn't need to be the third doctor in the family, and I've always loved building blocks and Tonka trucks…Building things sounded so much more fun. There's something else about me that is usually a complication," he continued.

I reached over and took his clenched hand from the gear shift.

_Good grief! How much must one guy have to endure? I hope this isn't too much more of a stress on him. _

We had been making good time on our drive and were almost to Buena Park. A few more turns after exiting the freeway, he pulled the car into a space after paying the parking attendant. He got out to open my door, and then locked up. Holding my hand and walking towards the underground pedestrian ramp he said, "You know my last name, you've been calling me by that name since the coffee shop. My great-great-grandparents were old money tracing back to the industrial revolution with steel and transportation."

At the look on my face, he said, "It gets worse, just wait. Already sinfully wealthy, my biological father invested in Silicon Valley real estate in the early 70's. There wasn't much out there back then. I don't even know why he chose that area to buy up land. When they both died in a car accident, Carlisle and Esme, then my godparents, adopted me. Since I joined the Cullen family, that real estate has gone into overdrive. I'm one of the wealthiest real estate landowners in Southern California, and I'm only twenty-six." We crossed a small road and got into line behind about forty other people waiting to eat at Knott's Chicken Dinner Restaurant.

"Hey! 'Sixteen Candles' does not predate your existence! If you're twenty-six, then you were born in 1983. I happen to know that 'Sixteen Candles'is a masterpiece from 1984, so technically you were a drooling baby. You could have even seen that movie in a baby carrier and not even know it! You owe me at least a nickel for that slipup, Masen. Shit! You're rich… I want a quarter! Pffft…." And with that, I burst into giggles.

"You're totally nuts, you know that don't you?" he asked, looking inordinately pleased for some reason. "You're still going to make me watch that red-headed nightmare of a film, aren't you?"

"Hey! How do you know the main character has red hair?"

He had that deer-in-the-headlights look, like he'd just royally screwed up and knew it. "I may have seen parts of it." His voice was rather sheepish when he admitted this.

"May have?" I raised my eyebrows at him. "Spill it, Masen."

"Okay. Okay. It's one of my sister-in-law's favorite movies of all time," He muttered, looking very guilty.

"You're just racking up the consequences at this point, Masen. I'm not even sure when I'm going to say your first name again. We might have to go back to your surname indefinitely."

His face looked so deliciously tortured, so horribly low, like I'd just stolen his Tonka Truck and told him he couldn't melt G.I. Joe dolls in the back yard anymore.

"Hey, Masen," I said, beginning his punishment.

"Yes, Bella." He sighed, sounding put out.

"Did you ever play with G.I. Joe dolls when you were a kid?"

He turned to face me. We were about half way to the hostess' stand. "I played with many things as a child. Among them were G. I. Joe _Action Figures_. I did not, however, play with dolls. Those were a little bit before my time, but I had an older cousin who used to bring them over. Eventually I received a few of my own _as gifts._"

"I have a question about your doll playing." He looked seriously frustrated by my insistence on calling them dolls. He even crossed his arms and pressed his lips together in a man-pout.

"Go ahead, Bella."

"Does every boy bury his G.I. Joe dolls in a trench and light them on fire? I've been slowly researching this through the years and it seems to be some kind of guy rite-of-passage."

He didn't answer. We had made our way up to the hostess stand. A teenage girl in a long prairie dress, her hair in braids, led us to a table by a window. We sat down and began to peruse the menu. I set my menu on the table, letting him know he could order the famous chicken thing for me. I wasn't going to come to the chicken dinner place and then eat meatloaf.

"Masen."

"Yes, Bella."

"How many melted G. I. Joe's did you have?"

He was saved from answering yet again as the server came and took our drink orders. Edward told me that I might want to try the berry punch. When I asked him if it was very sweet, he replied in the affirmative, so instead I ordered regular iced tea. Returning with our drinks and a basket of steaming, still stuck-together biscuits, the server efficiently took our order and moved on to the next table of guests.

Edward had held on to his answer during the entire Q & A with the ordering. He returned to my question, saying, "Probably five or so. I still have them."

"You still have them??!" I exclaimed in disbelief, slathering a biscuit with blackberry jam. "Wow. Can I…uh? Well, could you show them to me sometime?"

"I don't have them here; they're at my parent's home, of course."

"Oh, well naturally, Masen."

The server returned in what seemed like no time at all with two huge platters of fried golden chicken and mashed potatoes with gravy. Both hungry, we dug into the food with unabashed greediness.

Pausing between bites, he asked me a question that shocked me with its sneaky intuitiveness, "If I say something in Latin again, will you stop calling me by my last name?"

_Uh-oh, Bella. You totally outed yourself in the car. Doh! Asking him to repeat that phrase was a huge no-no. All you can do at this point is barter like a woman with eight starving children._

"That depends on how many Latin phrases I get in return for dropping the ban on your first name."

The chicken was really good, fried to a crisp, and not super greasy. Tearing off and discarding a hunk of skin, I devoured a piece of succulent white meat. He was chewing as well, so I had to wait for him to finish a bite.

"Is there a time window on these Latin phrases? I have to think about them. The one I used before, I had memorized, and it stuck with me. I can't just rattle them off."

"Hmmm," I said considering. "Let's just keep it to however many you can give me during the rest of the day. If I'm genuinely impressed, I'll drop the ban."

_That ought to do it. We both win. He gets my approval – which is guaranteed, and I get to hear more of his velvety sex voice._

"You're on. I'm going to kick serious Latin butt," he said with a casual tone of voice and flashing green eyes. I just rolled my eyes at him and began using one of the little lemon-scented wet naps to clean my chicken hands.

**AN: I don't know why this chapter is so long. Maybe it's because…Edward is insane and wanted some kind of super date. I got them through lunch at least. Now I'm off to go research Latin phrases. Thanks for sticking with my story.**


	11. Evening Engagements

**AN: I'm trying to reign in the banter and get to the sexing in this chapter. This doesn't mean they will skip the whole list. They might make an attempt toward project MBC, however.**

From Chapter 10:

"You're on. I'm going to kick serious Latin butt," he said with a casual tone of voice and flashing green eyes. I just rolled my eyes at him and began using one of the little lemon-scented wet naps to clean my chicken hands.

Chapter 11

Evening Engagements

Saturday Afternoon

2:00 PM

Edward was sneaky. After leaving a tip for the waitress and hitting the washroom, we headed toward the entrance gates to the park. Even in the afternoon, the lines to get into the park were rather long. Thinking we were heading to the ticket purchasing line, I didn't understand when he steered me toward the annual pass members' entrance. "But, Edward, I don't have a pass. Don't we need to get in that other line?" He pulled two folded sheets of paper from his back pocket.

He didn't answer my question, instead saying, "Do you have your ID handy?" I unclasped my new purse and opened the flap, retrieving my small wallet. I handed him my driver's license, glancing at the papers again. It looked like a printed web page with a barcode at the bottom. He ushered me forward, and before I knew what had happened, we were through the gates and those folded papers were gone – probably back in his jeans. He returned my ID to me, waiting patiently as I went through the process of lifting flaps and closing clasps, until everything was right again.

"You should get your real pass in the mail in a few weeks," he explained. "I took care of this online last night, after you called me."

_Aren't those annual pass things expensive? Wait - he said he wanted to go to Disneyland just for the morning. Tell me he did not sign me up for annual passes to two amusement parks just for today._

"Edward." He turned his head to look at me as we walked toward the center of the park. "Tell me I'm not going to get two envelopes in the mail?"

"Bella," he said patiently, "how much did Alice spend on those fancy red shoes she bought for you?"

"Those are a gift. It would be rude of me to ask where she bought them or how much it cost…"

"Well, then. Think of those annual passes as a gift. Even if you decide to dump me tomorrow, you will have the passes in your wallet as a souvenir of today. You'll know that a non-dipshit type of guy was willing to spend a little bit in order to share the day." He wasn't looking at me as we strolled along, but his hold on my hand tightened. Then he squeezed my palm and smiled at me, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

_He's doing it again. It's just like when we were talking on the couch. What was it he said? 'I'm willing to be yours for as long as you want me'. He thinks I'm on the verge of getting rid of him. He must really think that or he wouldn't keep giving me these little easy out speeches. I wonder why he does that... hmm... maybe I should reassure him on that point. He obviously didn't absorb my full meaning of how much I like him. Come on, Bella – tell him already. What is Alice always reciting? A man needs time to get used to having a woman in his life._

We got into line for the log ride. He helped me maneuver past giant boulders and lacquered wooden rails. The line eventually backed up; we were standing in a narrow staircase, and I had to lean in close to him to speak so the group around us wouldn't hear. I was on the stair above, so I didn't have to strain to reach him.

"Edward," I said[,] my lips brushing his ear. "I really like you. You already have a very strong hold over my emotions." I gave his earlobe a kiss because it was right there next to my lips. "I have no intentions of dumping you, ever." His arms came up to wrap around me and his lips pressed against the side of my neck as he listened. "You would have to cheat on me or tell me some serious lies for me to consider ditching you." His hands began to stroke up and down my back. He lifted his head and looked at me. "As long as you're honest with me, like you have been, we should be fine. We should get to use those passes quite a bit. Now tell me why you think I would give you everything I have to give, and then get rid of you."

He had to walk us up the rest of the staircase and forward in line several feet before the line stalled again. He pressed his forehead into my shoulder and admitted, "It's not you I doubt. It's me." I couldn't stop myself from hugging him tightly. We were leaning against one of those dark brown log railings, much closer to the loading area of the ride this time. He brought his head back up.

"Whatever it is, Edward, we can work through this. Just keep talking to me, okay?"

"I have this book at home," he sighed evasively. "Will you read a few chapters with me? It will help explain things better than I can."

"Reading is definitely my thing," I said with quiet enthusiasm. "Besides, Masen, reading with you about anything will be fun. Remember the wall paper paste discussion?"

"Hey! Why are you calling me Masen again? I thought you spontaneously decided to lift the ban." He had this hopeful look in his eyes, so I decided to ditch his consequence. It seemed trivial and mean.

_I wonder why saying his name is so important to him. Perhaps it's his version of sexy talk. I'm definitely going to have to test out that theory – later. I can't test any theories in public. It wouldn't be prudent of me. _

"The first-name-ban was lifted because we were having a serious discussion. Now the serious discussion is tabled, and you still owe me some sexy Latin talk." My voice trailed off as I considered my words. "However, would it please you very much if I said your name for the rest of the day regardless of your little deception?"

"Inordinately." He looked so satisfied; it made me even more intrigued about the name thing.

"Are you thinking of anything Latin for me yet?" I said, reminding him.

He pursed his lips, and it looked as though he began to work with words in his head. He was mouthing something and looking at the rock cave around us as we stepped into place in the final waiting area. "I can't say this one entirely… I'll have to use some English for the first part."

"Okay."

We moved forward in this smaller, numbered line and the attendant directed us to an empty carved out 'log' with a bench running down the middle. The front of the car was empty because of an odd numbered party, so I climbed into the back compartment, and he got in behind me, pulling me close and helping me get situated. The rails clicked into gear and we slid forward into the water, gliding and bumping into the sides of the canal.

"Are you ready?" he rumbled against my neck. His hands were bracing the sides of my torso, his thumbs rubbing against the sides of my breasts. I relaxed my arms against the tops of his legs, cupping his kneecaps.

"Yes. Lay it on me," I said with barely concealed eagerness.

I felt his lips brush the skin right under my ear and he whispered, "I want to kiss you… 'a capite ad calcem'." His breath on my neck sent shivers down my spine and his lips brushed my ear when he spoke.

I tilted my head back so that my lips were closer to his ear. "Again, Edward?" I breathed.

I heard a very soft groan, and his hands snaked down pressing slowly from my underarms, to my waist, over my hips, and finally resting on my outer thighs, tensing and flexing like a cat. He repeated himself for me, whispering the syllables right into my ear. I moaned a little and leaned back into him, completely forgetting about the ride. Pressing my legs together to quell the ache in me, I ran my hands down his arms until my hands rested on top of his. The car swayed in the water; we were in the glow of the dim lights floating by.

"Tell me what it does to you when I say that," he demanded softly.

"Well," I began to answer breathlessly. "M-my pulse picks up. I can actually hear my heartbeat pounding."

"Go on," he urged me.

His arms moved back up my body again to my chest, and he rubbed the backs of his knuckles in swirling circles, moving over more territory, slowly. "My breasts feel swollen and ache a little…" I rested my forearms against the walls of the log compartment, moving them out of the way. He rubbed his nose against my neck, his hands just seconds away from actually palming my breasts. Steeling myself to have courage, I moved my hands over top of his and pressed his palms fully against the thin fabric cupping my rounded flesh. "…and I feel a clenching deep inside. God, Edward, you're killing me."

There was a jerking movement in the ride as we headed up a steep hill.

_The only occurrence that could improve this scenario would be if our clothes disintegrated, temporarily of course._

He pressed my hips back into his lap with another muffled groan. I felt the heat of his hardness against my bottom. I couldn't help squirming a little. "Try not to do that, love. You're killing me too," he informed me with some levity. I was fed up with facing away from him. I swung a leg over the bench and twisted until I could kiss him. I cupped his cheeks in my hands and allowed my tongue to press against his. His lips met mine hungrily, and our mouths made love like our bodies yearned to.

He broke the kiss and held me tighter when my weight shifted back against his chest, and then we were flying through the air on the descent down the largest drop of the ride. There was a flash of light as we descended, and then droplets of water sprayed around us, sending glistening beads on our faces and clothes. I remembered what had gotten me so revved up in the first place. I shifted until I was sitting facing front again. "What does the phrase mean?" I asked, brushing back a damp strand of hair.

"It means, 'I want to kiss you from head to heel.'"

I moaned when he said that. His hands were demurely wrapped around my waist now that we were in the sunlight making the turn around back to the loading zone. He kissed my neck quickly, preparing us to get out of the log car.

"I think we need to sit by the caramel apples," he declared once we were stepping back into the light. "There's also a photo of us from the ride, but that can wait a few minutes."

"I couldn't eat a bite."

"We're not going to get an apple. We're going to sit by them. Please? I need a ten minute chat about Richard Simmons or something." He guided me out of the exit of the ride, down the stairs, and across the footpath, his hand a gentle presence on my lower back. We found a wooden table in the shade and settled there, sitting in carved log chairs.

"Richard Simmons, huh? How many amorous repellent images do you keep on file in that brain of yours?"

"Enough." He smiled though his eyes did not. "Do you have any people who turn you off immediately by what they say or do, or even by physical appearance?"

"Paris Hilton. Stupidity, whether feigned or genuine is an immediate buzz kill. I wouldn't necessary look to her for inspiration to get turned on, but she fits the bill for turning me off."

"I don't have many female amorous repellents, because even stupid women have the necessary parts…" He snickered at my shocked and slightly annoyed look, and then

ducked when I smacked his arm.

"Why Richard Simmons? He's so non-threatening to me. He's this cheerful, upbeat diet guru."

"Anyone with that much enthusiasm drives me crazy. He also has this high, whiney voice which has the effect of nails on a chalkboard. Both Richard Simmons and that 'Orange Clean' guy are both really hyper and animated. That much energy is exhausting and distracting enough to annoy my arousal away, eventually." He continued explaining while exploring all of the details of my hands. He had traced every curve and bump on one of my palms before pressing the pad of his index finger against the strength of each of my fingernails.

"If I get really desperate, there are always glam-rock males of the 80's. There's something about the combination of garish face paint on a truly ugly man to kill any kind of good vibe. That gives me pretty much all the members of the band 'KISS', and those 'Twisted Sister' guys too."

"You're absolutely right – about the hyper active salesmen and the war-painted musicians. Huh. I never thought of it that way. Although for women, the Billy Mays guy is supposed to be a demographic winner. I don't see it. His beard is so unnaturally dark, and he's so smiley. Maybe it's the idea that a guy cares so much about getting your floors clean." I said laughing. "Women are so bent. We have twisted ideas about guys and cleaning products." I realized something else, and gripped the edge of the table.

His eyebrows furrowed into a puzzled expression. "What is it?"

"I just realized that Mr. Clean was some kind of early housewife porn." He looked a little shocked and then started cracking up.

"Mr. Clean? What?"

"Think about his image. He's got bulging muscles and a tight white t-shirt. I think he even has an earring in one ear – like some kind of freaky sexual genie. I don't know about the bald part; I can't seem to make an analysis of what that means. He's always smiling, ready to do whatever you want – floors, windows, toilets…If that isn't a bored housewife fantasy, then I'll eat my tennis shoe."

"You're forgetting one," he said casually leaning back into his seat.

"What? Who else could there be?"

"The Brawny paper towel guy, Bella."

"Oh, you're right. He's got the plaid shirt, bulging biceps, and the tight jeans. It's so blatantly obvious now that I'm an adult. It flew right over my head when I was a kid. Good advertising, I guess." I looked down at the thick resin on the wooden table for a second, thinking. "Hey. I think I know who my amorous repellent is."

"Who?" he said looking intrigued.

"Al Bundy from 'Married with Children'. Did you ever watch that show?" He nodded his head, allowing me to continue. "It's not like anyone had any redeemable qualities, but the father's characterization was so loathsome – it actually offended me on behalf of the good fathers and husbands out there."

"I can see how he would be a turn off," he said as though he were considering the merits or lack thereof. He leaned forward putting his elbows on his knees and asked, "So, do you want to go check out our picture?"

"Sure, but I need to use the restroom first."

"I think there's one over there by the exit of the ride." We stood, dusting off our pants and heading in the direction of the facilities. I told him I'd be right back before I went into the ladies' room.

_Ack! My panties are a drenched nuisance. What's a girl to do in a situation like this?_

Ducking into a stall, I used the facilities and cleaned up, and then tried to figure out what to do with my damp underwear.

_Taking them off would be a bizarre production that would take too long with retying shoes and everything. Leaving them on sounds a bit uncomfortable too._

I settled for blotting out the worst of it with some toilet paper before redressing and washing my hands. He was waiting for me, sunlight shining off his hair. When he saw me, he stepped forward to take my hand.

"Everything all right?" he asked me politely. I immediately blushed bright red.

_Shit. He knows!_

_No he doesn't know. He's just being attentive._

_Yes, he does know, Bella. You practically told him all of your erotic responses on the damn ride._

_Grow up. So what if he knows? You know about his disobedient trouser companion._

"Bella, are you okay?" he asked, running a cool finger up and down my hot cheek.

"I'm fine. You can ask me later; I'd rather not say right now. Honestly - it's no big deal. I'm just being a little bit immature. Physically, I'm a twenty-three year old, but experience-wise, I'm the equivalent of an easily mortified Jr. High kid." He didn't press me with questions or tease me, for which I was grateful. He slung an arm around my shoulders and we walked over to the photo corral.

"I wonder if the camera caught us kissing," he mused aloud. There were people milling about the different screens lining the wall. We both scanned the flashing images, waiting for something familiar to appear. I moved over to the last screen, and watched as different photos flickered by in five second increments.

"There! That's us," I said quickly. He moved to stand behind me, his thumbs hooked in the belt loops of my jeans. He signaled the attendant who was helping another guest.

The camera had captured us half-way down our descent of the hill. I was turned to the side, my head tucked under his chin. His arms were wrapped around me, and water droplets were in mid-flight all around us.

_We look…happy, I guess. _

Finishing the transaction with the other guest, the blond female photo attendant returned. She gave me no eye contact at all even though I was standing right in front of her. Her gaze didn't leave Edward's face as he requested photo G-14 and a black frame. She was still standing there, staring like an idiot when I raised my eyebrows at her and cleared my throat. She spun on her heel and darted behind a dark curtain.

"I think your handsome face scrambled her last two brain cells, Edward."

"I think you sound a little jealous, Bella. It's not like you to insult someone's intelligence after ten seconds of seeing her."

"She should know better than to stand there gaping at you…"

He interrupted softly to say, "I don't mind, I think it's cute, actually." I turned around in his embrace, my hands sliding around his lower back.

"You do, huh? It won't be cute if she does it again." I was watching the attendant who'd come out from behind the curtain. She was polishing the glass on the framed photo with a soft cloth. I held out my hand for the money Edward had gotten out of his wallet. "I'll go get it, you stay here." He chuckled at my bossiness.

I walked over to the counter, pushing the bill forward.

_Shit. He gave me a hundred dollar bill? Who on earth carries hundreds?_

_A real estate magnate does, Bella._

_Oh yeah._

_I'll have to adjust to that, it feels a little weird with my carefully planned budget and his…how do I even describe him?_

_Don't bother, he defies description sometimes._

The blond worker shook open a gift bag and placed the frame inside, pushing the bag forward. Then she stood on tip toes, still trying to ogle Edward. She suddenly smiled brightly, winked and made a kissing gesture. I froze.

_What the hell?_

I turned around, scanning the room. There were two girls tucked into a corner heavily pierced and absorbed in each other; a large father-type in Bermuda shorts and a comb-over talking to his young daughter; and Edward – he was reading a park brochure while leaning on the wall with his legs crossed. He didn't look up. I turned back around.

_Bitch. If you do not look at me right now, I will cut you. I don't know what with, but I'll make it hurt._

She smirked at me. I looked at her name badge. "Mitzy," I said in a steely voice. Her eyes flicked away again, dismissively. "Listen Smurfette, get your eyes off my man, or I will get you fired. Here's the money. Get my change. Now!" She rolled her eyes at me and worked the register. I took the change from her, folding the bills in half and palming the coins in the other hand. I looped the bag over my pinky finger and snarled, "Karma's a bitch, little girl. Just wait until you find a guy dense enough to go out with you. Watch your back!" With that, I walked away.

When I made it to Edward, I handed him the money, saying, "You might want to check your change against the receipt. I wasn't paying attention – I was too mad."

"Everything seems to be okay, Bella." He slid the bills back into his wallet and tucked the coins into his pocket. He loosened the shopping bag from my curled finger and hugged me against his chest.

"Remind me not to piss you off," he said, snickering.

"Don't piss me off," I said into his chest right away.

"I wouldn't dream of such a thing," he said soothingly. I huffed out a breath of suspended tension and finally started to relax.

"I didn't know I had violent tendencies, Edward." I felt his chest shake with laughter.

"I think everyone has a 'don't fuck with me' threshold, and she didn't care to respect yours."

"Did you see that little stunt she pulled?"

"I did, and it was pretty trashy and transparent; don't waste another second dwelling on it." He shifted his hold on me and got us walking again. "Where would you like to go next? We could wander the trinket shops, or ride the train and get robbed; we could go on the Calico Mine Ride or see Ghost Town. What's next, fair Bella?"

"Let's get robbed, and then shop wherever the train drops us." I pointed at the train depot which was visible in the distance.

We waited for the train and boarded with all of the other guests who were waiting in line. About half way through our trip across the park, four armed 'bandits' wearing bandanas stormed into the train and waved fake guns around. It was silly. But it was amusing in its silliness.

Edward held me close and growled a little when one of the bandits eyed me up and down. The Knott's employee kept moving for fear of the look on Edward's face. A giggling teenage girl with short black hair was taken 'hostage'. The train dropped us on the other end of the park and we wandered the shops looking at the Knott's merchandise and other ghost town trinkets. He bought me a geode that had to be split open with a water-fed diamond-blade saw. The crystals inside sparkled and were razor sharp. I also picked out and paid for two sweatshirts as the temperature had changed. We donned our sweatshirts and decided on the last ride of the night, heading over to the Ghostrider wooden rollercoaster. Since we were both annual pass members, we didn't feel obligated to try to experience the whole park in a few hours. We had the luxury of taking our fun in small doses.

Ghostrider was a giant monster of a coaster, constructed of hundreds of weather-treated wooden beams. It creaked and groaned as the cars thundered overhead. It truly was awesome and horrifying. Everyone exiting the ride was standing on wobbly legs and babbling about the new experience. The line didn't take that long as the day was waning. Families were heading home with sleepy or crying children.

While standing in line, we played silly get to know you games with ridiculous questions like, "What's your favorite barnyard animal and why?" or "If you could be any invention of the last 100 years, what would you be?" We took turns trying to come up with lame questions.

I found out that Edward would be a rooster, naturally. He was an early riser as I found out the morning after we met. Also, he would be an automobile if given a chance. I told him that my favorite barnyard animal was the horse, because of its gracefulness and surefootedness. He also found out that if given an opportunity, I would be a light bulb, giving people all over the world the ability to stay up late reading.

We were soon speeding down the freeway on our way back to Westwood. The silence was broken occasionally by my yawns of exhaustion and the sound of his stereo playing the classical music station on the radio. Soon annoyed by the breathy announcer whispering the titles of songs in a dull voice, Edward popped a CD into the player.

I must have drifted off to sleep because when I opened my eyes again, we were in Edward's carport. I blinked my eyes a few times, trying to wake up. He placed his hands under my arms and lifted me up out of the car like a child. Holding me about the waist, he set me gently on my feet and we walked the short path to his apartment. Still yawning and dazed, I blinked at the bright light he'd switched on after opening the door. He kissed me on the forehead, encouraging me to sit on the couch until he came back with all of our bags from the car. As I was sitting there, it suddenly dawned on me what we were doing, and my drowsy relaxation fled.

_You're going into his place not to visit, but for the night. Why did you suggest this, Bella?_

_Well, because cuddling sounded like fun! _

_You might want to remember that you have a legitimate traumatic disorder, Bella._

_Yeah, well, it's not my fault that he makes me feel normal and I forget._

_Try to remember the 'feel' part of that sentence, Bella. You're not actually normal._

It was the wedge-sound of the door closing that snapped me out of my argument with myself.

"Uh, Edward…I think I'm starting to freak out."

He dropped the bags in a pile by the door and quickly sat down beside me."Panic attack freak out?" His right arm slid behind my back, and his left hand pressed gently onto my knee.

"Stupid self-doubt freak out, actually," I said as though speaking to my belly button.

He gently tipped my chin up, making sure we made eye contact. "Self-doubt about what, Bella?"

"Don't we get to have a session before we go to bed?"

"We can do whatever we want before we go to bed. It doesn't have to be a session. We can just talk or cuddle or just go to sleep – whichever you prefer."

"Can I take a shower first?" I asked, knowing this might help me feel better. I already felt reassured by his words that whatever happened would be my choice. But then, he'd inspired that kind of trust from the start.

He got up to hand me my knapsack and showed me where the towels were. I grabbed two as he walked toward the en suite bathroom in the second bedroom. Heading back down the hallway, I snagged my things before heading into the bathroom. A few more steps and I turned on the tap adjusting the dial to a setting in the middle. After using Edward's body wash and shampoo, I allowed the water pressure to relax the muscles in my back and shoulders. Wringing as much of the water from my hair as possible, I stepped out of the enclosure onto a navy blue bath rug. I dried off and wiggled into a white tank top, adjusting the straps and stretchy band under my breasts. I pulled on the pink and green plaid lounge pants without bothering with panties.

_Elastic is evil; Satan invented it to torture butt cheeks for eternity. Sleeping with extra elastic on is just stupid._

The tangles in my hair were not monumental, but it was close. I towel dried it a little more before brushing my teeth. I padded barefoot over to his bed with my tub of body butter in hand. Sitting back against his headboard and pillows, I tried not to think about what he was doing in the shower. I could still hear the water running from the other room.

_Maybe he's not. _

_Um no, Bella. He is._

_I wonder if he thinks about me while he does that._

_Most likely he does._

_I'm not inspiration enough for that sort of thing. What on earth does he see in me?_

Setting the tub of body butter on his nightstand, I used the spare time to rub the thick lotion into the soles of my feet, trying to rub out the ache from so much walking. My flirty red toenails glinted up at me with some kind of shimmer or glittering agent.

_Wait, what about the toenail polish? If the foot thing is supposed to happen in the future, does that mean…?_

_Yes, Bella. If you want that sexy thing with Edward and your toes to happen, you're going to have to maintain this red polish._

_Good grief! What if that's months in the future?_

_You might want to invest stock options in OPI nail polish, then._

_Alice is going to hear from me on this one. She better have been telling the truth. It would be just like her to manufacture this just to see me improve my pedicure habits._

I was threading the cap back onto the jar of lotion when Edward wandered in smelling and looking clean and refreshed. He was rubbing his hair with a towel, clad in black lounge pants and a gray t-shirt. Tossing his towel over the back of a chair, he fell onto the bed and lay with his arms behind his head. Tilting his head up, he gestured with an arm to come. I scooted across his huge bed and settled my head in the crook of his neck.

_He told you his stuff; it's time to share some more of yours._

I sighed, wondering how to begin. I decided to just blurt it out. "I went to two doctors who eventually told me I should consider the possibility of living a life without sex. The first doctor urged me to try and get things going on my own. He prescribed me a cream and encouraged me to try to make new connections. I still don't know if he meant connections between my brain and my body, or connections with other human beings. Perhaps it was both." He kissed my temple and sighed as he listened to me.

"The cream was a bust. It made me… swollen, but I wasn't turned on – not like I am with you. I saw that doctor every two weeks for four months. There wasn't much he could do; I was completely unsuccessful. Every time I went back, he had a suggestion for something new I could try. I began to dread working on the homework. I was unable to fantasize about anything. It was too easy to talk myself out of it, I guess. Racy pictures did nothing. I couldn't take sexy stories seriously – they just seemed ridiculous to me. Pornography was even more horrifying than the literature. I spent more time cringing and tilting my head at odd angles than getting worked up. When I missed an appointment because of a flat tire, let's just say I wasn't heart broken. I didn't go back."

"Every interaction I had with a guy urged me to think of myself as a failure. That negative, self-defeating voice in my head is not really conducive to a healthy sex life with a partner, or even alone. I couldn't get turned on. It's unpleasant if you're not turned on – it just felt really uncomfortable to me. That sense of discomfort always brought me back to my memories in that damn car with…"

I took a shuddering breath, refusing to say his name out loud. I didn't want to delve back into those memories again. He lay still, allowing me to gather my thoughts. His hand trailed slowly up and down my arm in gentle strokes.

"Eventually I felt I should try again. I went to another gynecologist. She gave me a device – this little silver bullet thing, and a book. The book was called, 'Learning Your Body Inside and Out'. I must have read every chapter in that damn book twice, and got nothing for my efforts. Scattered through these months of trying were some of my encounters with the dipshits. With every setback, I would get less confident, more frustrated, and less cooperative with the doctor. She didn't know what to do for me; I sure as hell didn't know what to do for me, and it turned into one big fiasco. Finally I found Dr. Pfeiffer. He at least had some sense. He gave me permission to lay off the sex stuff and just work on the panic attacks. I actually made progress with him, and then he retired. Pfeiffer referred me to Dr. Cullen, and there you were. Everything in my life was stale and empty. That is, until you came along."

I sat up a little to get a better look at his face. He was staring at the ceiling, seeming to file the information in his head. His eyes drifted toward mine when I sat up.

"For the first time, I'm experiencing what _normal_ women feel, and it's doing something to my head. It's giving me hope that there is a chance this can work; it's freaking me out, because if this doesn't work, then I'm just another steaming pile of failure. It's also mixed with a little concern for you, because you have quite a bit riding on this, too."

My mention of him seemed to stir him into moving and verbalizing his thoughts. He sat up and bent a knee, resting an arm on it. "Bella, I think we need to do something different. I think we need to expect to fail a little bit. So what if something doesn't go perfectly? So what! The whole point of this experiment, plan, whatever you want to call it, was to help each other. If we mess something up a little, that just tells us how to change things for next time. You see? If we use the right attitude, then we can't ruin it."

He seemed delighted by his epiphany. His lips tilted up and he took my hand, resting it against his cheek. I couldn't resist leaning in to kiss him.

His lips shaped mine, so sweet and soft and warm. I took my kissing cue from where we'd left off instead of starting all the way back at the forehead thing. I licked his lower lip and then sucked it into my mouth. We both tasted slightly of toothpaste. His tongue came out to swipe at mine and suddenly we were French kissing again, tongues dueling, tasting each other, exploring. It was erotic and playful and started all kinds of twitchy feelings inside me.

"Mmmmm," I moaned. I broke the kiss to ask for something. "Have you got anything else from antiquity in that lovely brain of yours, Edward?" He lowered us back into a reclining posture on the bed tucking me into my spot in the crook of his neck. He paused to consider his bank of Latin words. He chuckled at his latest creation.

"Yes. I have one. It's not terribly romantic, but that doesn't seem to matter." He rolled over me a little with half of his body, pressing one of his legs between mine.

"'I want … 'ad eundum quo nemo ante iit'." He peppered kisses on my neck this time, repeating the phrase until I was panting. My entire belly was a delicious, aching distraction. I still didn't know what the damn thing meant. My white tank with thin straps didn't leave much skin covered.

'Ad'. He kissed below my ear. 'Eundum'. He kissed his way down my neck. Goosebumps broke out over my chest and arms. 'Quo'. He rubbed his nose along the scoop neck edge of my camisole. 'Nemo ante iit'. He kissed my now pebbled left nipple through the fabric.

"How are we doing, Bella? Any clenches I should know about?"

"Not yet," I replied. "I'll let you know…Hey, what does this one mean?" I asked while he was busy kissing around the edge of my top again.

"I want to boldly go where no man has gone before." He smiled at me, his grin crooked and totally endearing.

"No man, huh?" I asked.

"Losers, dipshits, and the like don't count."

"They don't, huh? So I'm this untouched, virgin goddess?"

"I don't know if you're embodying Greek mythology or not, but you're mine, Bella," he said, burying his nose in the soft hollow between my breasts.

"As long as I'm not the crone archetype then I'm yours, Edward," I returned for his benefit, stroking my hands over the back of his neck. "Although I wouldn't mind being the goddess of the hunt – she's pretty cool."

"If you're still thinking this clearly, then I'm doing something wrong," He muttered.

With that, he slid the elastic strap from my top down my arm. The thin fabric covering my chest went a similar route, with Edward giving me time to protest if I needed to. He leaned in, his breath washing over my neck and chest.

"May I, Bella?" His lips were millimeters away from my nipple. The poor thing was hard and straining and puckered, just waiting for him to do something about it.

_There it is. The lady parts are more than happy. _

A sweet ache, that had everything to do with Edward, pooled wet heat between my legs.

"Please, Edward."

"Please what, Bella."

"Please do something, Edward. Clenching has recommenced," I said between gritted teeth.

"Something, here?" he said his hot breath washing over me again.

I pounded my foot on the bed, making my breasts jiggle.

_Tease me later!_

I must have said that out loud because instantly his mouth was washing over my nipple in hot strokes. He was laving and sucking on me like his very sustenance depended on it.

"Unnhh, God, Edward. Is it supposed to feel this good?"

"How good does it feel?" he said around my nipple which was still between his lips. The way his mouth brushed against the puckered flesh made me arch my back without me making that a conscious decision.

"It makes me want to skip several steps." I was speaking in gasps like a cross-country runner.

"Which one are you thinking of?"

"Straddle kissing, and take this damn top off of me. This thing is totally pissing me off."

He chuckled and worked the thing off and over my shoulders. He took off his own shirt and said, "While we're here we should try an NBH. I didn't put it on the list because I feared it would sound too juvenile, and I wanted to be serious at the time."

"NBH?" I questioned.

"Naked Booby Hug."

My nipples tightened again at the very idea of rubbing up against his chest. He positioned us on our sides, facing each other, and slowly brought our torsos into contact. We both closed our eyes and sighed, drinking in the sensation. His lips were lined up with my forehead and his sweet, affectionate kiss while both of us were bare-chested sent my arms around him tightly. The lightest dusting of hair on his chest whispered against my already sensitive buds, causing more throaty noises to spill from my mouth.

I dove in and kissed him on the lips - flooded with passionate need.

He rubbed our chests together again and I squeezed my eyes shut, then rapidly opened them to look down. I was mashed up against him. He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

_We look totally hot. I love this, can we do more? Good God, I'm wet. I've never been like this before. Maybe that was the problem._

It was almost as if he could read my thoughts, "Bella, how wet are you on a scale of one to ten?"

"Hell if I know… really wet."

"Wet enough to touch?"

"Yes."

"Do you think that will make you flashback?"

"We won't know until we try."

"I'll go super slow and keep talking to you. Pay attention to my voice. Focus on where you are."

His left arm slipped under my hair. He was embracing me under my neck.

"Is that hand under your neck okay?"

"It feels good, actually."

His right arm slid over my stomach to rest on the side of my torso. He slid his hand up and down my side in long gentle strokes. "I love the way your skin looks," he said quietly.

My breathing was fine, no panic in sight. His hand passed over my belly and my eyes squeezed shut. He saw my reaction and stopped.

"It's okay, I'm just nervous." I explained.

"Look at me, Bella."

I turned my head and looked into his eyes. They were warm and green and filled with affection for me. They made me feel reassured. He kissed my forehead, reminding me of how far we'd come.

"Would it be too much if we took off these pants, Bella? It might help you to help me."

_What's one more piece of clothing when you're already half naked?_

_No, Bella. Taking off the pants means all the way naked. Can you handle it?_

_Yes. I want to be naked with Edward. Holy shit. _

_Say yes! Don't think about it; just say yes._

"All right, but that's my last article of clothing, okay?" I felt it would be more kind to warn him.

He carefully slid his arm out from under me, and then moved to kneel next to my hips. His hands settled on my waist and his thumbs hooked under my pajama pants, pulling them down. He was going slowly, too slowly. He paused when he got to the last inch of skin. He rested his head against my bent knees for a second breathing deeply. "We can stop at any time, okay?" he said, continuing to slide the pants down my legs. He freed my feet from the loops of fabric and tossed the garment to the floor. I was now totally naked. I waited to die of embarrassment, and nothing happened.

"Thank you for being so…" I searched for the right word while looking up at the ceiling. "…understanding," I finally managed to say. "Can you go back to kissing me some more?"

He was looking right at my face, waiting for me to relax. "Look at me." I shifted my gaze to him. "You're beautiful, my Bella." I must have blushed five progressive shades of pink with that comment. "Spectacular." He returned to his position from before with his left hand under my head and his right arm free to wander. Our lips met and kissed slowly. I pressed my tongue into his mouth, dancing boldly. He met me back, swirling through the recesses of my mouth. His hand went back to my chest, rolling and rubbing my nipple between his finger and thumb. My hips bucked up, reaching for something that I couldn't define. I pressed my legs together, trying to do something about the wet aching flesh between them. He was still kissing me when I realized something.

"I just had an idea," I said slowly. His hand stilled on my breast. "Do you remember that first kiss on my porch when you distracted me with video game nonsense?"

"I'll have you know that was not nonsense," he said swirling circles around my breast again. "It was first class gamer commentary. Only the best are subject to my excellent taste."

I rolled my eyes at him, but smiled anyhow. "Do you think you could distract me again? The sound of your voice seems to help remind me who I'm with and where I am."

"Hmm. What shall we discuss?" he said his fingertips gliding over my nipple again.

"Make it something related to Knott's Berry Farm."

"Okay," he said thinking with his eyes closed. I reached up and tunneled my fingers in his hair.

_Why did he close his eyes to think?_

"What are your thoughts on amusement park desserts, beside the standard ice cream?" Listening to the deep tones of his voice, I helped guide his hand back to my belly button, but stalled there. He was content to caress my skin back and forth with a light touch. Goosebumps broke out over my skin.

"I don't have a lot of experience with them. Arizona was so intensely hot; we went to a few water parks, and the small town of Forks in Washington was not exactly amusement central. I guess I didn't do much of that stuff when I was a kid."

I gathered the courage to move his hand a few inches lower. "I'll list some typical carnival fare; you tell me if you think it sounds any good," he urged.

"Funnel cake," he said, his hand sliding under mine. I thought about pictures I'd seen of the stuff, and moved his hand until his fingertips were brushing curls.

"No fruit topping," I determined. "It's usually icky sweet. Powdered sugar sounds okay, though." I had moved his hand down until he was covering me, his hand a light, warm pressure, his forearm warm against my stomach. He dipped his head down taking possession of one of my nipples, tugging and swirling his tongue until my hips jutted up against his hand. He continued to lick and press his lips against the straining nipple.

"Candy apple or Caramel apple?" he said, his breath huffing against my other nipple.

I pressed his lower hand against my mound and nodded my head at him. His hand pressed down softly, not intruding, just cupping me. He was getting me accustomed to his touch.

"Caramel apple, I've actually had one of those, but I tear off most of the caramel. Candy apples look too hard to eat." His middle finger slid in between my moist folds and rested there, unmoving.

"Ever had a churro before or seen one?" His finger circled my swollen nub, not exactly touching it, avoiding it really. He dipped down lower and then trailed back up, repeating this movement several times. Each time he reached my clitoris, my hips bucked under their own volition. His fingers had acquired a slow rhythm and my lower body was tilting and flexing in time with his movements.

"Mmmmm…churro… Mexican donut – yes, no, I don't know. Don't stop doing what you're doing." He repeated the same motion, circling and gliding lower then back up again. The third time he did this, my knees jerked up and fell open. I was panting and moaning. Then his finger dipped inside and slid back out again.

_Holy Fuck – do that again. Dip back up, and then lower, and then…There! Oh my God, this is what all the fuss is…No! Go back in, that was good. _

He went back to the beginning, sliding and circling all over again. He slid back up, and then back down. His movements were slow and sure. He dipped his finger back inside again and my body tightened around him in response. He paused with that lone finger inside me for a second and kissed me, just rubbing his lips against mine. I kissed him back, opening my mouth for him, and then my soaked channel seized around his finger. He tilted his head the other direction and kissed me ardently, tongue possessing my mouth in sweeping passes when he slid a second finger inside me.

I was moaning and babbling like a panting idiot at this point.

_Oh God, Oh God, don't stop. Whatever you do don't stop. Shit, did I say that out loud? Is brain to mouth filter broken? Who the hell cares? Oh, God... Holy Mother... oh... oh..._

His palm cupped my mound, and the flat of his hand pressed against my clit as his two fingers slid out and then back inside me slowly. He was pushing his fingers in and out - in a slow and steady rhythm as the heel of his hand rubbed my sweet spot on the return. My eyes were sewn shut; both of my hands gripped his forearm as sensation tore through me. Everything was tensing and tightening and intensifying. Then he curled his fingers up inside me and pressed.

His mouth latched back onto my nipple and he began to suck in sharp rhythm with his thrusting fingers. What felt like electric currents went arcing back and forth from my breast to my womb. He used his teeth to graze the sides of my breast. I gasped and moaned loudly. My breathing shot out of control. I was panting like oxygen was going out of style. He curled his fingers back up inside and rubbed while his other hand pressed on my clitoris at the same time, and that was it. Spasms jerked out of my body in rhythmic succession, I was seeing stars behind my closed eyes and the world stopped making sense. I felt like I was drowning in rolling waves of pleasure, no longer coherent enough to form words in my mind. I heard myself babbling, but I had no idea what I was saying. Again and again, the waves crashed over me, and I felt like my whole body was on fire, every nerve ending sending electric signals to my brain.

He kept his hand moving and pressing in all the right places until it became too much, and I flinched away from his hand. He removed his damp fingers and held me in his arms. I mashed my face into his chest and tried to calm my breathing, allowing the actions of my body to catch up with the consciousness of my mind. Tears began to slide down my cheeks and my arms gripped his back with shock.

"You did it, Bella, you did it." He kissed my forehead, kissed away my tears. His voice was filled with love and pride.

"Thank you, Edward." My voice was really drowsy. I had never felt so sated; my whole body was boneless, light and humming with pleasure. Unable to keep my eyes open, I nodded when he let me know he was heading for the shower. I felt a whisper of a kiss on my lips and heard him say something I couldn't decipher, before I slid away into oblivion.

**A/N:**

**Whew. He sure knows his stuff. Actually, my beta knows her stuff. I can't take complete credit for MBC. TwilightMomofTwo helped a lot with getting Bella to the finish line. **

**Ever since I was a kid, I've always wondered or imagined conversations in my head while people- watching. The intimate conversation Edward and Bella have in line for the log ride satisfies my ridiculous need for some of those groping couples I've seen to actually discuss something of significance. I know, it's a lame fantasy, and those horny couples are really just canoodling and telling raunchy jokes. So if you were ever a teenager or twenty-something who had a dazed kid staring at you, I'm sorry – I couldn't help myself. You were unknowingly contributing to my early teenage delusions.**

**If you need something to say in a review, try sharing an amorous repellent image or person. I'm dying to know if you've got one.**


	12. Prudence

**AN: I'd fully intended them to fail and have to try several times to get Bella to her destination, so to speak. But then I started writing the damn thing, and they just…told me to get the hell out, so I did. Does this mean I have schizophrenia?**

**Major props go to Stephenie Meyer for creating and owning these characters. I haven't really created anything, and don't own much more than a really cool pimped out kitty litter box with wheels, and a groovy 1960's style pool with a faux rock waterfall.**

**Special thanks to TwilightMomofTwo for being such a helpful soul. And also, thanks to everyone for the feedback, I really appreciate it. **

From Chapter 11…

"You did it, Bella, you did it." He kissed my forehead, kissed away my tears. His voice was filled with love and pride.

"Thank you, Edward." My voice was really drowsy. I had never felt so sated; my whole body was boneless, light and humming with pleasure. Unable to keep my eyes open, I nodded when he let me know he was heading for the shower. I felt a whisper of a kiss on my lips and heard him say something I couldn't decipher, before I slid away into oblivion.

Chapter 12

**Prudence**:

A noun

A fourteenth century, Middle English,

Anglo-French word.

Also derived from the Latin word _prudentia,_

an alteration of _providential_

The ability to govern and discipline oneself by use of reason;

sagacity or shrewdness in the management of affairs;

skill and good judgment in the use of resources;

caution or circumspection as to danger or risk

EPOV

Saturday 11:37 PM

I kissed her lips, her cheeks, her eyelids and lastly her forehead, but she was out. She lay supine in my arms, languid and boneless.

_What a precious armful of sweetness. Surely I'm one of the luckiest people ever to walk the earth. But God, do I ache. I hate to leave her here, but I want to sleep next to her, and that won't happen until I take care of this._

I didn't need to look down to know that the front of my black lounge pants was fully tented by my now painfully throbbing erection. A wet stain was visible where the tip of my raging hard-on strained against the cloth. I was actually surprised that all I had to deal with was a little seeping fluid. Watching Bella fall apart under my ministrations had made me nearly explode. Perhaps being so focused on her had prevented that from happening – I hadn't really been thinking about my little problem.

_Huh. Interesting... I wonder... no, Edward. Not now. Just go and take care of the issue in your pants._

Carefully pulling the sheets and duvet down from under her body, I tucked her in and placed a pillow under one of her arms. She rolled forward a little, cuddling into the pillow and muttering in her sleep. She was smack-dab in the middle of the bed, too. Chuckling to myself at her ability to crash so completely, I got up and puttered over to the bathroom in the other room.

The tap on the shower dial gave easily as I selected a temperature somewhere between lukewarm and cool. Relying on fantasies of Bella in various states of dishabille was unnecessary. I simply replayed the images from a few minutes ago in my mind. I stepped under the spray and rinsed off, wetting my hair and allowing the sharp sting of the water to cool me down. I flipped the cap on the bottle of body wash and worked the dollop of soap into lather. Working the froth from neck to shoulders to chest, I rinsed the sweat from our session and began to focus on her face. My eyes closed, and I gave myself a preliminary stroke testing to see how sensitive it was. Hissing at the sensation, I backed down to the base and let my heartbeat slow a little. Her rounded, smooth breasts appeared in my head as I remembered tasting them, teasing and sucking on them. I was stroking myself in earnest now. Her nipples were soft and pink until I made them hard and firm.

I remembered her hand - her small, cool hand guiding me to paradise. She was so trusting, so sure and lovely. I remembered the sounds tearing out of her mouth as she came. My thumb and fingers made a tight ring around which my cock flashed in and out, and my hips joined the action by thrusting against my hand.

_It aches. It's painfully good. Oh God, Bella, I wish this was with you._

A vivid image of her wet, warm body - open and fully ready for me - appeared in my mind. My left hand, which rested against the wall of the shower, fisted in memory of the sensation of having her tighten around my fingers.

_She's so fucking hot._

I remembered everything, her hips bucking up and her legs falling so invitingly open in response; the mewling, gasping moans coming from her lips as I bombarded all of her senses at once. My hips bucked forward and I pumped my hand faster and allowed my mind to freeze on that image of her face - mouth open, eyes shut, back arched, breasts saluting the ceiling as her body clenched again and again. It was over seconds later as the fresh memory of her orgasm completely pushed me over the edge. I fell forward toward the shower wall, until my forehead hit the cool tile, my breathing turning to short, gasping pants as my seed surged from my throbbing shaft in uncontrolled pulses.

Finishing by rinsing off, I did a quick towel dry and quietly padded back into the room. She was still sleeping, but had rolled over to hug the other pillow. I put on a pair of basketball shorts, a sleeveless shirt, and socks and shoes. I sat down on the chair in the corner to tie my shoelaces. Rising from the chair, I saw her pajamas on the floor.

_Pajamas. Clothes. Bella packing. _

_Did she even pack clothes to wear in the morning? We left rather quickly. _

_No, she grabbed a few things from the bathroom and her pjs – that's it._

_I highly doubt she would want to wear today's amusement park clothing again._

_Wash them. That's everything right over there. _

The clothing from the floor and from the small pile heaped over her bag, wound up in the washing machine moments later. After the machine was soaped and running, I walked through to the spare bedroom and turned on the treadmill.

_If I run until exhaustion takes me, maybe I won't have to go another round..._

_Who are you kidding Edward? You're going to try to sleep with her in your arms. _

_Mind-numbing fatigue can't hurt, right?_

I increased the speed on the machine until I was running full out.

BPOV

Sunday 2:00 AM

_The sun is so radiant, but I don't feel hot. I just feel content and warm. Looking around and blinking a little I survey my surroundings. Rolling mounds of long green grass interspersed with small white flowers gently undulate in the cooling breeze. _

_What time is it? Where am I? And, why am I laying naked outside? Why the hell can't I be fully clothed in a dream for once? _

_You were clothed in the vet dream._

_Yeah, but I still had symbolic pussies yelling at me, which is a body part, so I still felt naked._

_Rolling over and looking up in the other direction, I expect to find Edward, but he is not there. Instead there is a giant marmalade striped tabby cat staring at me like a lion wielding his authority over the land. The tabby cat is surrounded by little red flowers in a perfect ring._

"_You have done well, Little Flower," stated the tabby in a resonant, wise voice._

_What the fuck? Why do I have a Native American name in this dream? Did I watch 'Dances With Wolves' last night before going to bed? _

_Again the cat speaks. "You should be proud; you have served your people well."_

_I was seriously getting pissed off at this wise cat crap. "My people? My people? I don't have any people! I'm an indistinguishable Euro mutt! If I had people, I would definitely know it."_

"_You know who your people are. Now go back to sleep Little Flower…Go back to sleep Little Flower…The angry kitties won't bother you any more…Go back to …Go back…sleep."_

"Go back to sleep, Bella. I'm sorry I woke you. It's okay. Just go back to sleep." I heard a restrained laugh rumble out of a deep chest. "You're dreaming Bella….angry kitties again? Too cute, love."

"Edward?" I asked, my voice scratchy.

"Who else, Bella?" He sounded bemused as his arms crept around me from behind. He smelled deliciously clean, and his damp hair pressing against the back of my neck.

"Was I dreaming?" I asked - my brain scrambled between waking and sleeping.

"Yes, you were," he said with what sounded like a chuckle.

"Hey, I hear something. What's that scratching sound every few seconds?" I inquired, wiggling into his embrace.

"It's the dryer. I just set it a few minutes ago," he returned before nuzzling my neck with his nose.

"Did you just come back to bed? What time is it?"

"You're supposed to be slipping back into sleep. You're disobeying me."

"Are you going to give me a consequence if I don't go back to sleep?"

"Can I?" He sounded intrigued.

"No," I said succinctly.

"That's not fair, you know." He didn't sound frustrated at all, rather, he sounded like he was restraining laughter.

"I thought we were supposed to be going back to sleep," I muttered, turning the tables on him.

He sighed, hugged me tighter, and kissed the top of my head. "Just try, please?"

And I did.

BPOV

Sunday 8:45AM

_Why is my pillow moving?_

I popped one eye open. I saw skin, a light dusting of chest hair which trailed down to black lounge pants, and a soldier inside at full attention. I mentally saluted him in my head.

_At ease, soldier. _

_Bella, what are you doing?_

_Shut up, I'm getting acquainted with his penis. Holy Pate on a Cracker! The thing has a pulse! I can see it moving in time with his heartbeat which is thumping nicely in my ear._

_How would you feel if he was checking you out while you sleep?_

_He's pretty much seen everything, and I'm lying here naked so he's going to see it all…oh shit. I'm lying here naked._

_He's fully clothed…well except for his shirt being off. Okay, so he's partially clothed. Maybe all that dreaming was to prepare me for this naked moment…_

_Quick! Grab the sheet and try to hold onto your maidenly dignity Bella. _

_But I don't have any dignity - maidenly or otherwise. I'm always falling on my ass, and saying the wrong thing. Surely a little morning nakedness will not be cause for my utter downfall, right?_

Moving with the speed of a drunken snail, I tried to reach for the sheet without moving my torso. Having Bella Swan luck - which is no luck at all - the sheet was down around our knees and one of Edward's legs was pinning it to the bed. It would not be tugged free!

_Dammit. We are totally sprawled out here in a partial Romeo and Juliet-the morning after. Sunlight is even streaming through the window behind us. I wonder if I make some lame joke about the lark and the nightingale, will he get it? _

_Jeez, he can sleep!_

"Good morning, Bella," rumbled the chest under my cheek.

I tucked my face into his armpit and mumbled, "mobbfffll, Edwardfpp."

"Bella, why are you hiding your face in my underarm?"

I turned my head towards the sound of his voice and answered, "I'm using a child's philosophy of 'I can't see you, so you must not be able to see me.' Is it working?"

He bust up laughing. "No. I can still see you and you're gorgeous - delightfully rumpled and soft and pink."

His nose nudged against my neck, and he turned so that we were in another NBH with necking. He hadn't gone for my mouth yet, and for that I was grateful. I must surely have morning breath. However, his kisses were distracting me away from my thoughts. Suddenly an entirely new thought dawned on me.

"Oh. My God, Edward. I had an orgasm!" I blurted out.

"I know, Bella. I was there," he laughed. "I think the images of you are burned into my brain. I can't seem to get them out for even a few minutes. Sexual obsession works that way." He rubbed his nose against mine and looked me in the eyes. "By the way, how was that? I mean, I know you have nothing to compare it to, but were you pleased with it?"

"Fishing for compliments, Edward?" I said in a wry tone of voice.

"Always…give me something, Bella…I _single-handedly_ defeated all the dipshits and losers….literally." He tucked his forehead into my arm and snickered.

_Oh Sheez, he's cracking himself up now? What have I done? I've created a monster - albeit a delicious sex god monster._

"Did you just come up with that now, or have you been practicing that one all night? Hey. Did you get to bed really late? I have this faint memory of talking to you, or talking to an orange tabby cat or something."

"You were talking in your sleep, Bella."

"Really? Did I say anything interesting?"

"When I came in the room, you were asking about flowers. I think you said, 'Why are the flowers red?' and then you rolled over and got angry about something and muttered,

'I'm a Euro mutt, leave me alone.' Then you started griping about angry kitties chasing you around."

The dream came crashing back to me and I remembered everything.

_Totally bizarre, Bella._

"May I make a few requests of you Edward?"

"Anything, Love."

"I need three things, my pjs, a notepad, and a pen. Can you let me languish here while you obtain those things for me? I feel rather bed-bound by my nakedness. I need to write down the dream I had."

"Sure. When do you see Emmett next?" he said, getting up. He walked over to the doorway, but turned around, waiting for my answer.

"It's either this Friday or next. I have to check my calendar."

He nodded his head and muttered, "Be right back."

He returned a few seconds later with a basket of clean clothes. There was a notepad and pen laying on top. "I'm going to go start a pot of coffee, okay?"

_He washed your clothes for you? _

I mumbled an, "mmm-hmm," and started rifling through the contents of the basket. I set the pen and notepad on the nightstand.

The white camisole was clean – freshly washed and smelling a little like Edward. To say I was surprised was an understatement.

_He even left the room to make coffee so you can get dressed without an audience. _

_Get dressed, Bella._

I rifled through the small stack moving aside the cream colored pants, red camisole, the sweater, and sweatshirt. Everything was there, even my white cotton underwear with a pink and red cherry print.

_Ask him about this in a second. Clothes first._

I wiggled into my underwear and white tank top, grabbed the cream pants, and toothbrush before heading to the restroom. Not having the headband I use to hold back my hair, I improvised by wrapping it as though it was wet. I washed my face with hand soap and water, and brushed my teeth.

"It's so sad to see you covered up," he teased, sighing dramatically from the bathroom doorway.

"You still get to see me in my underwear," I returned, looking down and pulling the towel off my head.

"Have you any idea how much I like those?" His eyes darted down to my panties for a second and then back up to my face. I picked up the pants.

My eyes drifted down his still gloriously naked chest to the front of his pants for a moment and then back up to his eyes, "I might have an idea, yes." I stepped into one leg of the pants, and then the other. Pulling the zipper and fastening the metal clasp, I asked if he had a brush I could borrow. He pointed to the top drawer. I retrieved the brush and began smoothing out the tangles.

"Thank you so much for washing my clothes," I remarked while looking at him in the bathroom mirror. "That was very thoughtful of you. What made you think of it?"

"I saw your pjs on the floor and it reminded me that you packed in a hurry," he stated while gazing back at me in the mirror. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned his shoulder on the door frame. "I didn't want you to have to wear dingy amusement park clothes this morning. That, and it's typical behavior for me in the middle of the night. I prowl around looking for things to do if I know I can't sleep right at that moment." I digested what he said about his routine on nights when he can't get to sleep. Thoughts of his nightly routine reminded me of his goals for sex therapy.

_Bella! I can't believe you haven't even asked him how he did last night after your bedtime adventure. Did he…Ask him about his number, at least? It's not all about you, you know._

I stopped brushing for a moment to turn around and take his hand. He looked at me expectantly. "How did you fare, Edward? I mean, I totally conked out on you. Did our session screw with your numbers? Tell me about your side of things."

"How about this? Let me go to the bathroom, change and start breakfast. When you come out we'll eat and talk about stuff."

_He could have answered me right there, but he used breakfast as a stalling tactic. Hmmm.__What's going on in that brain of his?_

"Fair enough," I replied, deciding not to press the issue. "We'll probably do better with food in our systems." He kissed me on the forehead before leaving the room. I finished fiddling with my hair, cleaned his brush until all of my invading strands were gone, and returned it to the drawer.

Grabbing my belongings, I headed back to his bed to write down my dream. It didn't take long to commit it to words. Tearing off the paper and tucking it into my knapsack, I noticed the make-out list tucked inside as well. I pulled it out to look at it. My eyes scanned down the list as I took in all the things we'd done. More than half of it was things we had done at least once. There were only a few items left from the top half. I still had to figure out what free style kissing was supposed to be. I'd mentioned straddle kissing last night after he'd revved me up. But then we had gotten distracted. I glanced at the clock on the table, 9:10. Getting up, I tossed my things back into my knapsack and followed the smell of fresh coffee to the kitchen. My mind wandered as I walked.

_Free style kissing. Does that refer to the type of kiss? The kisser gets to choose? Or does that refer to where person A gets to kiss person B? Whatever it is, it's an unusual way to think of things. I'll have to ask him about this whole lingo. He couldn't have come up with all of this on the fly – it actually sounds a little Junior High to me._

I almost beat him to the kitchen. He was there, taking a package of bacon out of the freezer. He put the package in the microwave to thaw out a little bit and took out eggs, juice and whole wheat bread from the refrigerator.

"Any objections to scrambled eggs?" he asked, getting out a bowl and a fork.

"None here," I replied. "Would you like me to cook the bacon when it dings?"

"You have the eggs, and I have the bacon." he said with a serious face.

_What is it with him and food related sex jokes?_

I rolled my eyes at him. "Would you like a sous chef or not, Edward?"

"Sure. There should be a pan in the cupboard over there."

When the bacon had done a few laps around the pan and I'd drained it onto a plate with paper towels, he got out a smaller skillet for the eggs he'd already whisked. I took the bread from the counter and dropped a two slices into the toaster. I went scavenging through his cupboards for juice glasses and coffee cups. Locating what I needed, I brought my treasures to the table and poured two small glasses of juice and two mugs of coffee. He placed a stack of plates, napkins, and silverware on the table, and returned to the fridge to get condiments. I set the table before sitting down to sip my juice.

_It's like we've settled into some peculiar domestic routine after one sleepover. I wonder if he snores. Maybe he has to use one of those electric buzzers on his nose hair. He's too perfect He has to have some weird habits somewhere._

"What are you thinking about, Bella?" he questioned.

"Migration patterns of the gray whale," I answered over the rim of my juice glass, with an innocent expression on my face. "Did you know that gray whales have the longest known migration of any mammal?"

He quirked his eyebrow at me and then continued to stir the eggs, scraping the pan with a wooden spoon. Deftly portioning off two plates of eggs, he gave each one some bacon and toast before sitting down next to me.

"Gray whales, huh?" he echoed, squirting some ketchup near his eggs.

"Yup." I said, watching the red sauce drip from the bottle. "Eww, you like ketchup on your eggs?" I got up to get the milk from the fridge, and sat back down. I took a sip from my black coffee.

_There's your odd behavior, Bella. _

He pursed his lips at the milk carton I'd set near him, but poured some into his coffee and stirred it.

_I knew it! He likes milk in his tea; the same goes for his coffee. Hmm, if I kiss those pursed lips, will he taste like coffee and sin? God, I want to shove the table to the side and jump him right now. I think freestyle straddle kissing would be my choice. Yep, definitely. Would he mind? _

_Hmm, the freestyle part. I could kiss him anywhere that I want to? Or, I could kiss him in any manner that I want. Maybe it's both! Any kind of kiss on any part of the body. Holy hell. Anywhere? Does that apply to both of us? I'm definitely not asking him what that means any time soon. _

_I think you solved it, Bella. _

"I've been known to let my syrup wander as well. Does this make me a breakfast deviant, now?" he asked before biting into a piece of bacon.

_Damn him, he's turning me on again with that low, sexy - I'm a bad boy - voice._

_No, Bella. You did that by imagining yourself going for a ride._

I felt my cheeks begin to heat up and forced myself to replay his words and then comment. "Well, let's just say I won't be eating off of your breakfast plate any time soon."

"You'll never know what you're missing until you try it."

"Ketchup-y eggs? No thanks."

"One bite of syrup-dipped bacon and you'll think you've died and gone to heaven."

"We're not even eating pancakes, Edward."

"That doesn't mean you can't have syrupy bacon, though." He got up, walked over and opened the pantry cupboard, taking out a bottle of syrup. Sitting back down, he poured a puddle the size of a quarter on his plate and dipped. He popped the piece into his mouth and murmured, "Utter and absolute yummm."

_Edward and a bottle of syrup – nothing else. _

_Dammit, Bella. Stop that!_

I placed some eggs on my dry wheat toast and made a little folded over sandwich. "My kind of yum," I gestured before taking a bite.

We had finished teasing each other and eating when I remembered the held-over conversation from the bathroom. "So, tell me what happened after I went all comatose on you."

"You did sort of pass out," he smirked.

"Focus, Edward," I responded, shaking my head, but winking at him.

"Sorry. Are you asking about numbers?"

"Yes. I want details." He suddenly had a stricken look on his face. "Not _those_ kinds of details," I said with exasperation in my voice. "Just let me know if you're off track or on track."

"I went back up to three." He was inspecting a piece of toast for crumbs, apparently. He wasn't looking me in the eye, and there was that same frown line on his forehead.

"Is that good or bad?"

"I'm not judging it, actually," his words defied the self-loathing expression on his face. He was being too tough on himself again.

"What does that mean?" I requested softly, hoping to draw him out of his reserve.

"It is what it is. I don't feel guilty. It's not an improvement, but then I wasn't pushing myself last night either. I had a bit of extra stimulus, so to speak." He leaned back against the chair with a crooked smile on his face.

_He takes such happiness in our success together. Don't ruin it for him._

"Yes, you did," I returned with a grin. "So, when do I get to…learn about you?"

"Learn about me?" he said slowly. "Is that code for something?"

"Are you going to make me say it?" I returned, feeling put out.

"Well, given I have no idea what you are speaking of, yes." Either he really didn't understand my euphemism, or he was excellent at feigning obtuseness.

"When do I get to say hello to the contents of _your_ pants?"

He may have choked a little bit on his orange juice at my blunt question, but recovered after swallowing and breathing.

"Bella, that may not be the best idea. I don't think that would be prudent."

_Huh? _

"What?" I said, positive that my ears were deceiving me. "It wouldn't be prudent for me to return the favor? What the hell? I don't understand Edward. I thought we made it clear yesterday that this is an 'us' relationship, not a Bella Swan pity party."

He threw his fork down on the table. "You really think pity has anything to do with my feelings for you?" he asked in an incredulous tone of voice.

"I don't know Edward. You tell me. Apparently the candy store is only open for me. You must be banned from the candy store for stealing too many Snicker's bars!" I retorted angrily, throwing my napkin down and scraping my chair back. I stomped over to the sink and rinsed my dish, quickly placing it in the dishwasher. I hung my head over the sink, not believing his bizarre logic.

"Way to go, Bella. Crack some joke when we're talking about something important," he complained.

"You didn't remind me to turn the acerbic switch off!!" I yelled at him.

"You should know better, Bella!" he roared back at me.

"Ugh… I can't talk to you right now," I said, supremely frustrated, shaking my head and gripping the tile ledge around the sink.

"God, Me either! I'm going to go get yesterday's mail. I just need some time to figure you out!" He strode over to the door.

"Fine. Get the mail! I hope you go postal!"

"I'm already there!" he growled. He pressed his palm to the door and let his head thud against the wood. Frustration rolled off of him in waves. He grabbed his keys, but paused by the door, his hand on the deadbolt. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, still staring at the door. The anger seemed to drain out of him as I watched his shoulders release some of their tension, and I wished I could see his face. "Don't go anywhere," he entreated before unlocking the door, opening it, and walking out. The door closed quietly.

My anger was already dissipating. Plagued with confusion, I began to replay things in my mind's eye.

_Shit. What the hell was that? Three minutes ago we were joking about ketchup. How the hell did World War III erupt? What did he say that set you off?_

I mentally reviewed our conversation. I said I wanted to get into his pants. He said something about prudence.

_That's not even a word I use very often. What does it mean? _

_I think it's something about wisdom or good choices? Fuck. I should know this. I'm an English major. We have to know everything._ _I'd look the word up, but I'm not at home, and I don't know if he even bothers to have a brick and mortar dictionary around. He probably just uses his laptop if he needs to look something up. _

_Think, Bella. Why would he think getting you acquainted with his…man parts…would be a bad idea? _

_Hell! I don't know! He's a heterosexual male. Aren't they supposed to be all over that shit? God, he is so confusing._

For lack of something better to do with my hands, I loaded all of the dishes into the dish washer, put the food away, and wiped up the crumbs with a damp paper towel.

_Kitchen's clean. Now what? _

I heard shuffling sounds by the door, and braced myself for his return. I checked my face for tears, found none, and stood with my hands on the back of one of his kitchen chairs. As his head poked in, we warily eyed each other. He pushed the door open further. He set the mail on the small table by the door.

_Who is going to be the first to speak?_

"What does prudence mean to you, Edward?"

"It means protecting you from me, being cautious."

_What? That is totally not what I was expecting._

"And why do you think that I need protection from you, Edward?"

He walked past the front doorway, shut the door and locked it, and then paced behind the couch. I wanted to go to him and hold his hand, or help him calm down a little bit, but I thought he needed the distance right now.

"Because I'm a total sexual beast, Bella, and I don't want to make satisfying me your responsibility, ever. I can't get satisfied. I'm insatiable. All of my other relationships crashed and burned beyond this point. Hell, I don't even think I got to this point with my other relationships. I don't want that to happen with you. You mean too much. It would…" His sentence trailed off and he was staring at the wall, his lips in a thin line and his hands fisted.

_Finish your thought. Finish your thought, dammit._

"It would…" I prompted him.

"It would kill me if that happened with you." He released his breath and sat down on the couch with his head in his hands. I went over and sat down right next to him. I placed my left hand around his back and rested my chin on his shoulder.

"Well, we need something….something to keep us from crashing and burning, Edward."

"What do you have in mind?" He lifted his head at the possibility of a solution.

"I'm brainstorming here…uh, an agreement, a proclamation, an understanding, a contract…something to make it clear that I am not fully responsible for satisfying you sexually all the time."

"We could do that?" He almost sounded hopeful in his disbelief.

"Yeah. Why not? We can do whatever we want, right? Aren't you always reminding me that it's just you and me? If that would take the pressure or anxiety away from letting me return the favor every once in a while, then let's do it. Don't you think that might help?"

He straightened his shoulders and turned towards me. I couldn't read the look in his eyes, but suddenly his arms were gripping me and lifting. I was propelled off the couch and into his arms. My legs wrapped around his waist. He strode out of the living area, his hands cupped under my ass, down the hallway, and back to the bedroom. He didn't stop until we were lying in bed and his head was resting on my chest. I stroked his hair back from his forehead and voiced my thoughts out loud.

"I think we should compose something in writing; make it official."

"Do we have to type it?"

"Only if you want us to."

"I have okay handwriting, but having a copy in the laptop would ensure that we could always reread it even if something happened to the paper."

_I have every intention of printing and framing this thing if it will keep you from doubting yourself._

"Typed it is, then." I kissed the top of his head, just like he'd done for me so many times.

"Do you feel any better?" I asked him.

"Much."

"Is the candy store still closed?"

"It is until we read some of that book." He sighed. "There's actually something, an exercise that I can't do by myself. I need a partner for it to work properly." He looked up at me his eyes still troubled. "I guess we've just assigned ourselves some sex-step homework."

"Hey. Look at me." I told him firmly.

He looked up at me from his perch on my chest.

"This is what we agreed to originally. We signed up for homework together, right? This is the natural progression of what should happen next. Don't feel bad about this, feel good that we're going to get what we want. We can do this," I declared with conviction.

"I almost believe you," he responded.

"Not good enough, Edward," I said sternly. "Say the words."

"Oh jeez, Bella. Are you going all after school special on me?" he asked with a grimace.

"The corniest after school special you can imagine. Now say it or suffer a consequence."

"'We can do this,'" I repeated for him. "C'mon. Try it on for size."

"Shit. You're really going to make me say this, aren't you…"

"Payback's a bitch, Edward, and it will be good for you. We'll even do the cursing bit," I announced with a smile.

"We can do this," he said, but it was weak and he just sounded tired.

"Wow, that was really pansy-ass," I declared. "Try again. This time I want you to try to irritate your neighbors a little. Get into it…guy style. Grunt or something. What do guys do again? I don't know – flex. Get your head in the game, Edward. Didn't you ever play sports? Harness your inner caveman."

"Caveman style? Why didn't you just say so?" Sitting up from the bed, he roared out, "We can do this! Huah!"

"Okay, now swear and a little less loud; I don't actually want you to get written up by the management," I laughed.

"We can fucking do this!" he yelled in a loud, booming voice.

"Now how do you feel?" I prompted him.

"Hoarse." I rolled my eyes at him. He settled back into his spot.

"You know, I have to go home soon."

"Going home is overrated," he stated.

"Well, I have laundry to do, a paper to finish, and friends to call."

"Who do you have to call?" he said, his head momentarily popping up to scrutinize my face.

"Alice." His head settled back down again.

"Ahh, the psychic friend."

"Were you going to be jealous?"

"Possibly."

"You have nothing to be jealous of," I told him. "She and I only kissed once." His head snapped back up again.

"You and she? Are you serious? That's…wow," he sputtered.

"It wasn't like that, Edward," I said with amusement.

"Like what?"

"It wasn't all Playboy channel."

"Oh, well, what was it, then?"

"Well, technically I already alluded to it once. Remember when I mentioned that I'd tried kissing a girl? Alice offered herself up for my exploration. Neither of us felt anything other than weird. Okay, Edward. We need to get this show on the road. Are you ready to take me home?"

"No. I'm going to kidnap you."

"Edward… that wouldn't be very _prudent_ now, would it?"

He muttered something about "girlfriends" and "calling you on your bullshit" before he got up and held out his hand.

**A/N: I think I want them to fight more often. I don't know how I'm supposed to make that happen, but it should be fun. **

**I have no plans for Edward to suddenly become a complete moron and do something epically stupid like lie or kiss some previous girlfriend-skank. The jury is still out on putting Jake in the story. Jake thrashing scenes have become rather commonplace and I don't know if I want to go there.**

**There is one last thing to clarify for readers not in the U. S. Bella and Edward have referred to **_**ABC After School Specials**_** a few times. These programs aired on television during my pre-teen years and were basically morality/sexuality lessons with extremely bad acting and horrifyingly tacky plot lines. Anyone who has managed to sit through one of these knows exactly what I'm talking about. Tragically for me, we had no cable growing up, so I managed to watch a few out of sheer boredom or homework avoidance.**

**Reviews are better than **_**carte blanche**_** in a candy store.**


	13. Emergence

**AN: Due to reader request, I have decided to share the symbolism of Bella's most recent dream in the latter author's note. Scroll down if you'd like to read that first. **

**Chapters 13 is told chronologically, but not in its entirety due to character perspective. **

**Bella tells Edward a little white lie in this chapter. She doesn't know how to have a boyfriend at all, let alone a sexually obsessive boyfriend. **

**Also, pay attention to the heading when you get to Edward's point of view. There's a four hour jump ahead in time.**

**There are two links in my profile for items mentioned in this chapter. One is the song Bella hears on the radio, the other is a Georgia O'Keeffe painting. Look them up if you please.**

From Chapter 12:

10 AM Sunday Morning

"No. I'm going to kidnap you."

"Edward… that wouldn't be very _prudent_ now, would it?"

He muttered something about "girlfriends" and "calling you on your bullshit" before he got up and held out his hand.

Chapter 13

**Emergence**

A noun

Origin 1350-1400 Middle English and

Middle French from _emergere_ =arising out of

Coming into view or notice; issuing

emerging, rising from a liquid or other surrounding medium

coming into existence

arising casually or unexpectedly

calling for immediate action; urgent

_Evolution_. displaying emergence

_Ecology_. an aquatic plant having its stems, leaves, etc. extending out of the surface of the water

Related Forms: emerging, emergently, emergentness

BPOV

Sunday 11:00AM

Putting your life back in order for the week was not the most exciting stuff in the world, but there was something reassuring about routine. Even paying bills while sipping filtered water had its own appeal. Edward had just dropped me off after helping me drag all of my stuff into my cave.

_Poor man had to carry that darn gift back and forth so many times! He has the patience of Job. Patience, selflessness…wait, there's something else. What is it? It's like there's something on the tip of my tongue, or the edge of my brain…argh! This is going to drive me nuts all morning until I figure it out. Never mind, I should clean the shower and refocus with some mindless scrubbing._

Fetching my okay-to-bleach clothes, donning them, and covering my hair with a bandana, I strode into the kitchen for the powdered cleanser and my brutal-looking scrub brush. I snapped on my pink rubberized gloves and twisted the knob on the small boom box I keep in the kitchen on my way back into the bathroom. I smiled when I recognized the song that was playing. 'Show Me What I'm Looking For', by Carolina Liar was now blaring from the cheap speakers.

_How does the radio do that?_

_I don't know…It's radio magic; sometimes the radio sucks, right? How many times have you flipped the thing off when it plays a song you don't like?_

I went back to that idea that was tickling the edges of my memory.

_It's like there's something else Edward did, that I can't remember, but I know it happened. Wait, it goes back to that first night he walked me home. What happened to his car?_

My mind was spinning as I figured out what he must have done. He tried to get me to go in his car, but I was being all emo, and had convinced myself that he was trying to get rid of me. He then called out for me to give him my phone in front of the whole café, chased me down the sidewalk, and offered to walk me home - leaving his car in a parking lot in a city known for auto-theft, riots, fires, floods, mudslides, and earthquakes. He got me all the way home, did the forehead thing, and then trudged alone back to his car.

_He's been crazy into me since that first day. _

_Duh, Bella. He told you he got up before six AM the next morning to buy safety stuff for your place. _

_I wonder if he slept that night. Holy Excrement! Was he sexually obsessing all night? _

_Do worms burrow underground?_

I snorted and went back to scrubbing.

I let my mind wander to a less overwhelming topic. I remembered back to when I accidentally got this huge scrubbing brush. It really was the coolest cleaning tool, and it was almost free. I was at the grocery store looking for something strong with good scouring ability. In a haphazard pile at the bottom of the wall of cleaning goods were these bizarre paddle brushes with long, thick plastic handles and lethal looking bristles.

When I went to check out and pay, the cashier had been baffled as to why the scrub brush wouldn't scan. It had a barcode sticker on it, but the register just made an off-tone beeping sound when scanning. The manager was called over. A look of surprise crossed her face, and she explained to me that the brush was not intended for retail; it was actually part of the butchers' stock of new, unused scrubbing brushes. That's why the thing wouldn't scan. Some idiot stock person had seen a box of brushes and simply dumped them on aisle twelve, disregarding the fact that there was no tag and no room on the wall of hooks. She offered to get me a new, wimpy scrub brush. I figuratively dug my feet in and said, "No, thanks. I want _that_ brush."

She had looked surprised at my determination. She offered to give me any brush from the cleaning aisle for free. I stood my ground and said, "Ring me up. That thing is mine."

She just smirked and asked me what I planned on killing with that brush.

I had answered, "Just some soap scum."

She leaned forward and whispered to me, "I have four of them. Go clean in peace."

When I checked my receipt, she had rung the brush in for $1.00. The barcode on the thing had indicated $7.99, and I had been willing to pay that much for the wicked thing. I guess that is how much the grocery store paid for each brush. I smiled at the sisterhood of women who have cleaned scary shit off shower walls.

_Sisterhood. Women. Shoot! I have to call Alice. That is - if she hasn't already figured out something is up._

My phone started to ring in my bag in the living room. I scrambled to take off the bleach-speckled gloves and high-tailed it over to the couch where I'd dropped my bag. Knowing intuitively who it was, I flipped open my phone and started talking.

"What are you doing right now?" I demanded without preliminaries.

"I'm arranging my shoes by genre," she returned quickly. This gave me pause.

_What the hell does that even mean? What the fuck is a shoe genre? Suspense pumps and Western penny loafers? _

Shaking my head, I asked, "Do you have to be anywhere right now?"

She hung up. She was already on her way over. I started brewing and icing down large quantities of our favorite passion-fruit iced tea. I was cutting up the orange wedges when I heard a loud knocking on my front door. I unlocked the deadbolt and chain, yanking the door open.

"What's with Fort Knox?" she asked, puzzled, before walking into the room and placing her handbag on the coffee table.

"Alice, you didn't leave a pot on the stove or anything? You didn't run anyone over on your way here?"

Reaching into her bag she found her phone and started scrolling down, hit send, waited, and told Jasper to turn off the potatoes on the stove. She stuck her phone back in her designer bag.

"Don't tease me, Bella. What's going on?"

"You haven't seen any visions?"

"Just a picture of a flower."

"Would you like to actually see that picture?" I questioned coyly, delaying telling her my news in favor of a bigger build up. I walked over to the pile of things I'd yet to put away, and slid the picture over to the seating area. She took one look at the wrapping job and began to giggle.

"I know," I agreed, chuckling. "You should have seen his face when I teased him about it."

We tore open the paper together and both gasped when we saw the brilliant green and white of the flower dominating the frame. It wasn't a bird's eye view of a flower, like many of O'Keeffe's studies. The perspective showed the flower as it grew naturally. It was lush and green, sensuous, but not explicit. I could easily hang this on my wall, and not have a single solitary soul even know it was her work.

_Well, maybe someone acquainted with her penchant for painting single blooms, but this doesn't scream Anatomy 101 to me._

I held it up to the light, staggering under the weight of the dark, espresso-stained walnut frame.

_It's an awfully nice frame for a print. I wonder if this is custom work…_

I finally propped it up against the couch and stood back, evaluating it. I couldn't find anything wrong with it. It was perfect. It was stark and austere, and yet colorful and lovely all at the same time. As I bent closer, I could feel Alice watching me. I stood back ten paces and looked at it some more. The white flower was standing tall, alone. It was flanked by its own green leaves on either side, framing the bloom with glowing color. It was almost as though the flower was emerging from the green leaves. I wondered at what point in her life she had painted this. It was unlike her other pieces.

"What kind of flower is it, Alice?"

"I don't know, is there a card?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say it was some kind of lily, maybe an orchid?" I tilted the frame forward to look at the back. There, taped behind the picture, was a card. I looked at Alice and smiled. She grinned back at me and clapped her hands.

"This is so exciting. I love surprises!"

"Technically, I figured out what it was before we opened it."

"You know what I mean, Bella."

I did know what she meant. I was filled with anticipation and an unfamiliar feeling.

_I can't really name this feeling. Whatever it is, it's good._

I opened the card and pulled out something I didn't expect. The front of the picture showed a little boy sitting in a sand box all by himself. He was surrounded by toys of all shapes and sizes. The caption at the bottom of the card read, 'I've been told I don't play well with others'. I opened the card to find it blank save for Edward's distinctive script and another small, square slip of paper. When I read the handwritten note, his words made tears spill over the edge of my eyes. I sniffled and felt like an idiot in front of Alice.

"What does it say inside, Bella! I'm dying here." She wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

"'You're the only one I want to play with. You will always be beautiful to me. Love, Edward.'"

"Wow, Bella, that's really…"

"I know." Tears were flowing freely down my cheeks. I wiped them away with an impatient swipe of my hand.

"What does the flower explanation say?"

I began to read aloud the description of the flower in my picture.

**Honolulu White Orchid**

From the largest family of flowering plants, Orchidaceae

The Honolulu Orchid is of the genus

dendrobium which reproduces asexually.

Orchids date back 15-20 million years ago, the first evidence found

on a bee's wing encased in amber.

Color range: white to cream to pale yellow

Symbolic Meaning: Delicate or Eternal Beauty

I sank into the overstuffed chair next to the futon.

_How does he manage to do this to me? I haven't even figured it all out yet, and my legs don't work. Leave it to him to find an asexual flower that represents eternal beauty. He even signed the card 'Love, Edward'. He's using the big guns. I should be scared, but I'm not. Maybe that's why he wasn't dying to have me open it right away, or eager to have me open it in front of him. _

"Bella? Do you want to help me out here? Are you two planning on going to Hawaii or something? Why did he give you this flower, in this picture, with this meaning?"

I handed her both the card and the slip of paper while explaining my asexual worm story, as well as my first time inspecting the art in Dr. Cullen's office.

"Golly gee, Bella, this boy's got game." I chuckled at her vintage expression.

"I don't understand why this flower is from Hawaii; maybe that has more to do with Georgia O'Keeffe's story than with me." I shrugged, and made a mental note to ask Edward about that.

"Bella, would you like me to stay a little longer? Jasper is probably wondering what happened to me. I can call him and tell him to eat lunch without me." Alice looked at me, her eyes full of concern with an underlying twinge of happiness.

"What time is it?" I questioned turning to look at the clock on the microwave. It was just after one o' clock. "There's just a little bit more. Call him and reassure him that no one's hurt, and tell him you'll be home in twenty minutes."

She grabbed her phone again and walked over to one of the barstools to call Jasper. I realized that I needed to charge my phone and plugged it into the outlet. I registered her voice idly in the background while I took a moment to clean up the shreds of brown packaging paper. I took a few things back to my bedroom that I'd neglected to put away earlier. When I walked back in to the living room, she slid her phone closed and spun around on the barstool.

"Okay. I'm ready. Hit me." She hopped off the barstool to sit on the couch and sip her tea. I took a huge drink of my tea which had begun to sweat on the coffee table.

"He gave me my first orgasm on Saturday night after _the_ best date of my life."

She was quiet for a minute while she absorbed the information. The she smiled a radiant, beaming smile, and jumped up to hug me.

"I'm glad I was sitting down. Have you guys had sex already?" I tugged her back to the couch and we both sat down this time.

"No. It was… I don't know how to explain. It just happened. We've been moving forward in this effort to see how far I can go, and well….do you remember when I told you my lady parts work?"

"Yes," she said slowly, lightly rubbing the back of her head.

"Well, that was right after I found out that I _can_ experience arousal. Well, we came up with a safe word, so that we could stop in case I had a flashback. On Saturday night, one of many make-out sessions, we started kissing, and I never had to use the safe word. We didn't actually have sex, but he got me there."

"Oh, Bella, honey! I'm so proud of you. I've always hoped that you were fully functional, and that the problem stemmed from your experiences with the wrong guys," she explained before turning to retrieve her handbag from where she'd placed it on the coffee table. "I wasn't sure when I called you, of course. I had a feeling that…well, I hoped… I've wanted to give this to you for so long." She was hugging me, like a mother or a sister would after graduation or the inauguration of a first bra. She pulled back to reach into her purse. She began to dig through the contents.

"What color do you want? I've got pink, yellow, and purple-blue."

"Color of _what_, Alice? What on earth have you done now?" Even wary, I still responded with "the blue one", before looking to see what she had.

She held up some kind of heavy-duty device, encased in hard, clear plastic. I cringed immediately. For some God-awful reason the thing was called 'The Wet Wabbit Vibrator' and had a few mostly naked women cavorting on the advertising sleeve. It looked complicated; when I saw that it was anatomically correct, I closed my eyes and place a palm over my forehead.

_Oh shit, Alice. And you've been waiting to give this to me? Baby Satan in a Blanket! Not only that, but she bought three, so I could choose a color. She is definitely something else. _

I didn't know whether to be horrified or grateful. It was clear I would never have purchased something like this for myself, even with online discreet purchasing and packaging. I had received a little bullet thing from one of my doctors, but never something quite as _substantial_ as this.

She handed it to me and said, "Happy adventuring, Bella", with a devious grin. "Let me know how it goes, okay?"

Before I knew what was happening, Alice was gone, and I was alone in my little living room with a painting of the female form and an intense-looking, happy-time device. I didn't know whether to call Edward first to say thank you, or to take Alice's gift out for a buzz. The disciplined part of my mind remembered the paper that I had to finish, and the fact that I'd not had anything to eat since breakfast.

_All things in order, in due time. Eat something; then try out the toy; and don't forget to thank Edward for the print! Ooh, if things go well with my self- sex homework then I'm allowed to work on my paper at Starbucks as a reward. _

I walked into the kitchen to go make a turkey sandwich.

EPOV

5:35 PM Sunday

Bella's location – Starbuck's Coffee, Westwood

I was at my drafting table in the spare bedroom, working on redrafting a series of windows in my latest revision of the cathedral assignment for my Historical Architecture 310 class. I couldn't seem to get the arch on the windows right and still take advantage of the eastern exposure of the building. I wanted the light to shine through in arcs of luminosity. Instead the software I was using was showing dribbles of light - not what I was going for. I tossed the pencil I used for doodling on scratch paper onto the desk where it rolled and caught on the metal ledger at the bottom. I was rubbing my lower back when my phone chirped signaling a text message.

FROM BELLA:

WHAT ARE YOU UP TO, HONEY BUG?

I grimaced at her latest torturous pet name.

_Why does she persist in trying out every sappy, ooey- gooey nick name on the planet just to irk me?_

_Because it works; don't get irked. Do it back to her._

I quickly typed something into my phone.

FROM EDWARD:

NOT MUCH HERE, SUGAR LIPS, JUST WORKING ON AN ASSIGN U?

FROM BELLA:

I OPENED THE PICTURE, LOVER DOVER

_Shit! She called me lover…Does that mean something? Yeah, dumbass. You two are becoming lovers…It doesn't mean she's in love with you. Calm down._

FROM EDWARD:

AND?

FROM BELLA:

U BROUGHT ME TO TEARS. IT WAS WONDERFUL. ALICE SAID, "THE BOY'S GOT GAME." VERY WELL DONE, SWEET TREAT.

FROM EDWARD:

ALICE IS THERE?

FROM BELLA:

I NEEDED TO GET HER CAUGHT UP ON THE G-RATED VERSION OF OUR STORY. I HAVE A Q 4 U.

FROM EDWARD:

ANYTHING, MY HEART.

FROM BELLA:

COME TO KARAOKE WITH ME THIS FRI? ALICE, JASPER, EM & ROSALIE, TO ATTEND. 7PM. I HAVE A SONG READY TO SING. CAN U DIG?

FROM EDWARD:

I CAN DIG. SONG?

FROM BELLA:

A SAPPY DUET. I HAVE AN IDEA. WE'LL TALK WED NIGHT. PIZZA AGAIN?

FROM EDWARD:

WAS GOING TO ASK U SAME THING. TRY OLIVES THIS TIME?

FROM BELLA:

MAYBE. I HAVE TO GO, MY FAVORITE. ALICE GOT ME A GIFT.

FROM EDWARD:

A GIFT? WHAT KIND?

FROM BELLA:

THE SCARY KIND THAT GOES BUZZ. MY DUTY - AS WOMAN TO HAVE A SELF SEX LIFE. THINK OF ME. I'LL THINK OF U.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why didn't she invite me over to help?_

_Too bad she doesn't need a cheering section. I would be there in a flash. _

_She probably needs to try the thing without an audience the first time, however._

My phone chirped one more time.

FROM BELLA:

WHAT'S YOUR EMAIL ADDY?

FROM EDWARD:

EMASENARCHITECT AT GMAIL DOT COM

My phone didn't budge even though I stared at it, willing her to say one more thing, even a stupid pet name.

_She's probably getting busy…without you._

Groaning and readjusting my jeans, I went back to fiddling with my windows, but I couldn't focus. All I could visualize was Bella, alone in bed, thinking about what I could be doing for her. I tried to shake it off and redirect my attention to the way the windows were supposed to mimic the line of the vaulted ceilings. Bella popped back into my brain. The mental image was salacious, to say the least.

_Shit Edward. Don't do this!_

_I can't help it. Did you hear what she just said?_

A dialogue box flashed at the bottom of my desktop. It was Outlook Express alerting me to a new email message. I was actually grateful for a distraction from my distraction. I clicked on the box and an email opened up. The "from" box said, IBMS AT MSN DOT COM. A pleased expression, no doubt, spread over my face as I read the formatting of her message.

To: Edward Masen

From: Isabella Marie Swan

Re: Contractual Obligations first draft: Comments Requested

Date: Sunday, September 28th, 2008

Attachments: Sexual Satisfaction (34.5 KB)

Dear Mr. Masen-

President and CEO of Swan~Masen Inc.

Attached you will find the aforementioned contract. Please review the language of the document for any potential rewording you may need. Comments are requested, but not required. Please have any changes sent to my office no later than one week from today.

With _pleasure_,

Ms. Isabella Swan, SVPSR

Sr. Vice President of Sexual Relations

I started cracking up when I read her job descriptions for the two of us. She had made me the president of the relationship, but she had given herself top billing in the company name. I remembered she had done the same thing with her corporation with Alice. She also made herself Senior VP of our sex life.

_I'll have to tease her about any potential staff members under her purview. She'll either get a kick out of that or I'll get a flick on the forehead for suggesting such a thing. Either way, it'll be worth it._

I opened up the attachment, curious about how she planned to word this thing. Expecting a simple typed paragraph, I felt my eyebrows nearly shoot through my hairline when I began reading.

_Fuck me! I think this thing might hold up in court._

SEXUAL SATISFACTION AGREEMENT

Edward Masen hereinafter referred to as "boyfriend," and Isabella Marie Swan hereinafter referred to as "girlfriend", hereby agree to the following:

Preliminary Matters:

Boyfriend and Girlfriend were declared to be going steady on the day of Saturday, September 27th, 2009 at the Swan primary residence in the city of Westwood, CA in the county of Los Angeles. Because certain apprehensions have been developed by Ms. Swan and Mr. Masen, they hereby agree to hold harmless opposing parties in the matter of sexual satisfaction, subject to the terms and conditions as set forth below.

Boyfriend and Girlfriend have made a complete, fair, and accurate disclosure to each other of all or most sexual hang-ups affecting this agreement.

Boyfriend and Girlfriend retain the right to be advised by therapists and close friends pertaining to their relationship rights related to this agreement.

This agreement is intended as a preliminary documentation of the matters addressed herein and may be used as evidence and incorporated into any necessary language during petty arguments.

Should a dispute arise in regards to the enforcement of this agreement, the prevailing party will be entitled to his or her exclusive choice of free services from the attached list of sexual or non-sexual favors.

Attestation:

Agreed to on this _________ day of _________, ___________.

By:

Boyfriend __________________Girlfriend ____________________

Witnessed By:

_______________________________________________________________

(Witness or counsel signature)(Witness or counsel signature)

-**-

-**-

-**-

-**-

-**-

-**-

[NOTARY PUBLIC MAY AFFIX STAMP HERE]

_I wonder if she's actually going to make us have witnesses sign this thing. Shit, I wouldn't be surprised if she did! Does she already know someone who has a notary public stamp? Good grief. _

I sat back in my adjustable chair, wanting to call her.

_Screw that, I want to go to her apartment. _

_How many days until Wednesday?_

_This is preposterous, I can't even hold out until tomorrow._

I wrestled for a few more minutes with doing the right thing. Then I said, "Fuck it." I left my computer on, still plugged into the wall charger, and walked the steps into my bedroom to grab my leather jacket out of the closet. I slid into the jacket, grabbed my keys off the coffee table, but there was the jogging book taunting me with my problem. Sighing in resignation, I tucked the thing into the back waistband of my jeans. I was out the door in two minutes.

BPOV

Starbuck's Coffee House

5:30PM

_Okay, Bella. You can do this. You need to thank him for his gift and let him know that you're trying to be a fully functioning woman now, even on your own. He'll know how important this is to you. Besides, you wouldn't want him to find it in your bedside drawer._

_Why can't I just do that?_

_Because the two of you are trying to share this stuff with each other, that's why. Look at how much he's had to tell you._

_Will he ask questions about what I did this afternoon? _

_I don't think he would embarrass you like that._

_No, I'd better not risk it. He's bound to be curious – any man would be. If he thinks I haven't tried out the gift yet, then he can't ask any questions. _

_Aha! You'll have to lie a little, but it's for the sake of your sanity, Bella._

_Baby Steps...._

I made my thumbs depress the buttons on my phone. I started off by discussing the more innocent things with him. Eventually, I had to bring up the sex toy. My hesitation before hitting the send button felt like an eternity.

5:40 PM

FROM BELLA:

MAYBE. I HAVE TO GO, MY FAVORITE. ALICE GOT ME A GIFT.

FROM EDWARD:

WHAT KIND?

_Of course he wants to know what kind of gift. There's no way in hell I am telling him those details._

I decided to at least let him know that it required batteries.

_Let him know that he's on your mind. He'll like that._

FROM BELLA:

THE SCARY KIND THAT GOES BUZZ. MY DUTY - AS WOMAN TO HAVE A SELF SEX LIFE. THINK OF ME. I'LL THINK OF U.

**Author's Note:**

**Chapter 12 Symbolism **

**I know some of this is glaringly obvious, and I'm not trying to "school" you on what you probably already figured out. But for those clarification junkies out there, here goes:**

**Little Flower = another name for female genitalia**

**Bella's Native American Tribe = womankind**

**White flowers = innocence**

**Red flowers = transformation from innocence into passionate experience**

**Think about how a red bouquet of flowers symbolizes passionate love while a white bouquet or dress indicates virginal innocence. I could write more about red symbolism, but don't want to bore you…**

**Your People = Edward, Alice, and Emmett**

**Little red flowers in perfect ring = round imagery = O for orgasm... **lame, I know.

**Or, a perfect circle = Bella has come full circle from trusting no man to trusting Edward.**

**Edward's absence in the dream = Bella's subconscious has noticed that he is not in bed with her, or he has just gotten into bed with her and she knows something is different. Or, Edward's absence in her dream is further evidence that she still needs to learn the workings of her body on her own. Just like Edward shouldn't be making his sexual satisfaction entirely Bella's responsibility, she shouldn't be making her orgasms entirely all of Edward's responsibility...she needs some self study too.**

**During meal times…Edward is a total hedonist ****- ****giving in to his every food pleasure impulse… Bella is a self-depriving minimalist…fat free milk, sugar free everything…dry wheat toast…olive suppression…etc...**

**Okay, symbolism**** school is officially over…**

**I took huge creative license with the flower description and the painting I put on my profile. Please, just go with it and don't ask too many questions. I had to pick and choose to make it work**

**I also don't own the line, "It was stark and austere, and yet colorful and lovely all at the same time." No copyright infringement was intended and that line was lifted from this website: hawaiirama dot com forwardslash 2006 forwardslash 11 forwardslash georgia-okeefe-in-hawaii**


	14. Shipwrecked

**A/N: Special Thanks go out to TwilightMomofTwo for putting up with all of my shenanigans. **

**We left off in chapter 13 with a brief look at Bella's naïve thoughts when she told Edward about her little gift from Alice. The beginning of this chapter returns to Bella at around ****2:30****in the afternoon. Essentially, we now go back in time to catch up on what we missed from the middle of the day.**

**I wouldn't read this at work if I were you. That is unless you're a porn star; carry on, then.**

From Chapter 13:

BPOV

Sunday 1:05 PM

_All things in order, in due time. Eat something; then try out the toy; and don't forget to thank Edward for the print! Ooh, if things go well with my self- sex homework then I'm allowed to work on my paper at Starbucks as a reward. _

I walked into the kitchen to go make a turkey sandwich.

Chapter 14

Shipwrecked

"So I went to work…I had never handled a tool in my life, and yet in time, by labour, application, and contrivance, I found that I wanted nothing, but I could have made it, especially if I had the tools…"

_The Life and Adventures of Robinson Crusoe_

Daniel Defoe, 1719.

BPOV

Sunday 1:25PM

_How the hell am I supposed to do this? _

_Well, for starters, you could unwrap the dang thing, Bella._

Looking at the clear hard plastic that was heat sealed on the edges, I decided to get my industrial-strength kitchen sheers I usually reserve for big tasks, like cutting through cardboard or chicken bones. A few well-placed snips and the bluish-purple monstrosity fell into my hands.

_Hmmm. It has a nice weight to it. It is rather a handful, isn't it?_

The batteries were already loaded inside and ready to go. Holding the device and packaging in my hands, I was walking down the length of the apartment back towards my bedroom; I turned the thing on just to see how it sounded. I placed the packaging on the bed and sat down.

_Bzzzzzzzzzz. That sounds…rather intense._

_Let's try the second setting. BBBBBzzzzzzzzz. Okay. I don't think I need to start with the second setting._

_What about the third and last setting? BBBBBBBZZZZZZZZZ!_

_Uh, yeah. That shit is going to kill me. Better stick with the first button. I don't want to be the only known case of death by vibration. _

I was deeply engrossed in imagining the cops pulling my lifeless and naked body out on a stretcher to take me to the county morgue, my stiffened hand still clinging to the purple rabbit buzzing away with its Energizer batteries, when I realized I was just stalling.

_Hey, what's this other set of buttons on the face plate? _

I grabbed the packaging, turning it over to read the description of the features. My eyes scrolled down the paragraphs dedicated to each feature. It was waterproof; had some kind of massaging beads inside; and had a rotating tip. I read aloud, "'The rotating tip gyrates in circles to tease your vagina'," and snorted at the wording and multi-tasking nature of the toy.

_Good grief! Is there anything this thing can't do? I'm surprised it doesn't have a razor attachment for trimming._

_Okay Bella. You can do this. Didn't you just give Edward a pep talk about this very thing?_

_Well, not this actual thing._

_Yeah, but I've failed at this self-pleasure shit a bunch of times. It just seems like work._

_Ah, Ah, Ah. _ _Now you have man candy to fantasize about. _

_Man candy? Where the heck did that come from? I'm not even sure I like that phrase. _

_Focus Bella! Strip and get into bed._

I meekly listened to the voice inside my head, and I removed my housecleaning attire. Shivering a bit from the exposure, I huddled under the covers and tried to warm up as the sheets were cold.

_Okay, Bella. Use that movie reel in your head of the hot things Edward has said. _An image of Edward during our lunch date flashed in my mind.

**After he cleared the table of all the remains of lunch and we'd both washed our hands and refilled our drinks, he took out a sheaf of papers. Some were unread; some were highlighted with little marks in the margin. **

"**When did you have time to do this?" I asked in puzzlement.**

"**It's easy to make time when you have obsessive compulsive sexual tendencies."**

"**Hardy-Har-Har." I said acerbically. ****"Internet research**** is not sexually obsessing, Edward." **

"**It is when the goal of said research is to get into your ****panties," he said**** nonchalantly. ****His words did something strange to me.**__

_**Ugh… what is this**__**? I feel a tremor in my toes that moves up my legs and settles in**__** my……..lady parts? OH. MY. GOD. I'm getting turned on!**_

I remembered those first shocking sensations that coursed through my body. There were these odd fluttering tingles that came at my abdomen almost from the inside out. It was as though passages and connections within woke up and said hello. I tried to analyze those feelings in the hopes of bringing them back again. Edward was essential to turning me on the last time. I visualized him wanting me so much that he would stay up late finding the right research so that we could eventually be together. He was sitting in front of a laptop, light from an overhead fixture shining around his head as he stared at the monitor. It was late; he yawned and kept reading.

_Okay, Edward doing anything is hot. But the late night yawning does nothing for me._

I tried going back to that conversation; I remembered what he'd said when I repeated his name a few times. He was apologizing for speaking out of turn, not knowing his effect on me.

**He held out his hand, "Spank My Hand. I've been very bad." **_**Spank. He just asked me to spank him? I looked down in horror as my nipples started to tighten in the seamless cups of my Victoria's Secret bra…**_

_It's working! Well, kind of. Having the real thing here would be so much better. Then he could kiss me…God, he can kiss really well. _

I concentrated on the deep rumble of his voice as he gave me little commands before one of our kissing sessions.

_He is so warm and attentive and eager to be with me. I'll try to remember that too…_

"**Come here." he requested softly. "Sit your butt right there, please." He tapped the edge of the coffee table, and I perched there…"This will give me a little distance, and you your own separate space on the coffee table. You however, have never gotten to really enjoy a kiss before, so we won't do anything like that to you. Pucker up, Swan." **

My recall of the sound of his voice caused heat to pool between my thighs.

**He waited for me to look up at him. When our eyes connected, he winked at me just like before. **

_God, when he winks like that it does something to me. _

_Yeah dummy, it makes you wet. _

_Hey! No demeaning remarks when I'm trying to get things going here. Sheesh this is difficult enough without dings to my self-esteem. Now shut up!_

Groaning with frustration, I entertained the selfish idea in my head.

_I want to call him so badly! He could totally talk me into a turn on. I'm only half way there! Why can't I just call him? It would be so easy._

_You can't call him because that would be heaping all of the pressure for both of you right back on his shoulders again. He already has enough on his plate without adding all of your hang- ups too. Don't do to him what he's afraid of doing to you. Plus, you're going to need this self-knowledge if you ever want to have successful sex with him. Woman up! Don't be such a wilting lily._

My weak moment was over. I wasn't going to call him. But the little bit of arousal I'd had a moment ago had waned. I sighed and wondered if something really is wrong with me. Everyone else is able to do this, and it's not such a big deal.

_Try again, Bella. You can do this. Whew. Maybe the voice in my head is screwing this up._

_Ya think?_

I visualized squishing the voice in my head into a little square that I kept folding smaller and smaller until I could just fling the nuisance away like a gnat.

_There. It's gone. _

I waited a few beats, and nothing.

I settled in the middle of my bed and got serious. I put the rabbit thing on my right side and kicked the covers off. I shoved a few pillows under my hips so that I could see my hands and imagine Edward's much more appealing fingers. However, I didn't start there, I began with my breasts.

I shaped my mounds into my hands, testing the feel of them. My fingers pressed into my nipples, and I rubbed my hands up and down, back and forth until the nipples were hard - as hard as Edward had made them last night. They were really sensitive now. I tried a gentle pinch. It hurt a little bit, but sent a zing down between my legs. Testing, I tried a harder pinch on my other breast.

My hand traveled down between my breasts until I reached my lower half. I slid a finger into the slit - past my clitoris, gliding over my entrance and back. Surprisingly, I was wet. Not drenched, but definitely not dry.

I rubbed in circles around my clit, trying to mimic what Edward had done last night. Head tilting back and eyes closed, I tried to focus on the sensations and the look on Edward's face right before he kissed me. My clitoris seemed to press upward expanding beyond its little hood. I rubbed down to my entrance and back, spreading the moisture around. My body clenched in response.

_Clenches are good…Keep doing that... Clenches are the goal_.

I reached over and grabbed the rabbit, turning it onto the lowest setting. I tested it out carefully, just rubbing up and down. I began to lubricate even more, the vibrating sensation hitting the nerve endings like it promised to do on the packaging. I tried pressing it inside a little bit.

_Wow, that feels great. Is this what I've been craving?_

_Well, aside from the real thing, yes._

_I feel full, and it seems to be feeding that sweet ache. Damn, it's intensifying that sensation, but in a good way._

Using my other hand, I felt around for the second button. The noise on the device changed and it started to rotate in side of me.

_Whoa. I don't know if I'm ready for that. Maybe I'll explore that more next time._

I turned off the second button and I pressed it in farther in until the thicker part was at my entrance. It stretched a little bit because it was tight. I wasn't a physical virgin; James had remedied that one with his attack. I shook off memories of him. He wasn't allowed in my happy time. I went back to trying to think about Edward.

_Edward is definitely allowed. Wouldn't it be nice if he was doing this to you?_

_The real thing, or the toy?_

_Either one, if he was here, this would be a hundred times better._

_Or, a thousand times more embarrassing._

I held it there for a second until my body clenched again in response. I pulled it back out and pressed forward again, this time thinking of Edward's body. I continued those slow advances and retreats and let my inner voice come back.

_It's not plastic, that's touching you; it's real. It's him. It's warm; it's hot and has that pulse like you saw this morning. It's thick and hard and bent upwards trying to get into you. _

My thighs were beginning to shake a little bit with tension. I let my left hand drift back up to my chest and engaged my nipples into tight buds again. The combination intensified things and I moaned his name in a breathy whisper, "Edward."

I pressed it all the way in, as far as I could get the thing to go. I was panting as my eyes flew open, the buzzing sensors hitting me in multiple areas. I bit my lip and moaned, low and deep. I repeated the motion, feeling the ache spread throughout my whole body.

_My cheeks are hot_.

Looking down, I spied a blush spreading down my upper torso, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. Manipulating the toy until the protruding, angled part was pressed in the right spot; I felt my hips jerk in response.

I gasped as my body tightened, as my hands gripped the thing and moved it in and out more quickly. I felt the fluttering of a preliminary rhythmic tug. My thighs fell open, just like last time as my hips bucked upwards reaching for him. I pressed it into me harder and faster, and twisted it back and forth until everything went white behind my eyes and my body was contracting and clenching around the phallic shape inside me. I was floating in a wave of pleasure, higher and higher, until the world came crashing down around me, and pulled me under. It was fabulous, exhilarating, and dreamlike.

My lips sighed, "Mmmmmm," as I came down from my high, a smile playing on my lips as I realized my success, again, due to him. I could still feel my pulse pounding in my ears. I allowed myself to relish the feeling of well-being and relaxation that spread over my senses. I must have drifted off into a light sleep, and I woke up noticing my hips were still propped up on pillows and the rabbit was lying next to my relaxed hand, still buzzing. Moving slowly, I turned it off and lay there for a second. I got up slowly, trying to shake off the drowsiness. I decided to go rinse the device in the sink and find a place to put it.

_Bedside drawer? That will do._

_Should I text something naughty to Alice? She'd get a kick out of that._

I headed for the shower first, wanting to wash away my efforts and return to normal. After soaping from head to toe and attending to my hair, I dried off and I dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. I put away my things from the weekend, and then wandered over to get my phone. Curling up on the couch, I let my thumbs begin composing.

FROM BELLA:

U ALWAYS KNOW WHAT TO BUY ME, ALI. I FOLLOWED THE WHT RABIT DOWN THE RABIT HOLE.

FROM ALICE:

DID U GET LOST?

FROM BELLA:

LITTLE, BUT I GOT BACK HM

FROM ALICE:

GOOD JOB LIL ADVENTURER. TTYL :--)

Renewed with energy from both my session and my verbal pat on the head from Alice,

I decided to sort some laundry. I wrestled three large, white baskets out of my closet and moved in on the pile that had formed in one of them. Quickly separating every white bath towel I could find, I ran that load along with some bleach and detergent down to the laundry for an express load. Setting things to run, I returned to my apartment to keep sorting. I had two loads separated into darks and not-so-darks, waiting by the front door. I watched 'My Life on the D-List' for a few minutes while I waited for my load of white towels to finish. Checking the clock, I ran down to switch loads, not bothering to put in a new one. Sorting was enough for now; I didn't have time to spend hours on laundry today. When I came back to the apartment, I was sad to have missed some of the show.

_Maybe someday I'll be able to afford one of those cool DVR things._

I was half-way into an episode of 'Bathroom Renovations' with Amy Matthews on the DIY channel when I remembered to go fetch my towels. I returned with the neatly folded stack and stashed them on the shelves in the bathroom.

_Is a push-up bra really necessary when you're demolishing tile? Must be hard to have to maintain hotness when you're knee deep in grout._

I convinced myself to get out of the apartment for a while. I bundled my wallet and laptop into a shoulder bag, and also grabbed my Milton text, a legal pad, and a pen. I decided I had earned the right to head over to Starbuck's. I walked over to where I'd left my phone charging in the kitchen and placed it in my back pocket. The walk would clear my head and get me moving. I had been enclosed in my cave for far too long. I put my bag across my body with the laptop over my rear end, locked the door, pocketed the keys and began my trek. I glanced at the clock on the DVD player before locking the door; it was 3:31.

The walk to the small strip-mall was only fifteen minutes. I was just beginning to sweat a little when I made it to my destination. I opened the glass door, forgoing the line for coffee, and instead seeking out a place to camp out.

_There!_

A couple was just vacating a prime spot in the back, leaving an overstuffed russet velvet chair next to a small table. Settled into the end of the lounge, I took my laptop out of the bag and plugged it into a nearby power outlet before powering it up and checking my wireless connection.

It didn't take me too long to finish my paper for Bonner's class since I was nearly done. I just needed to fiddle with the body paragraphs some more, conclude, and finish my works cited list at the end. I reread what I'd written last week and the words just seemed to flow easily. A little mental distance is sometimes the best motivation for me when it comes to writing. All in all, I spent a little over an hour on the paper before deciding there was nothing more I could do to it. I emailed it to my professor before I could forget.

Alice sent me a text message about getting together this Friday. It was very short and to the point asking if Edward and I would meet up with the others at a karaoke bar for duets this Friday evening. I decided to ask him about it in a little while.

Taking my laptop and wallet with me up to the counter, I ordered my shaken tea drink and a bran muffin to nibble. Heading back to my area in the back, I sipped my drink as a plan for my remaining time formed. A smile spread across my face as I remembered my decisive conversation with Edward from this morning.

_I wonder if I can draft that agreement… _

I surfed the internet until I found a document to emulate. I chuckled when I realized my chosen model was a template for a legal separation or dissolution of marriage. The language was all adaptable, and I quickly typed in the silly alterations to the wording.

Working on the cover letter, I wondered exactly how far to take this little game.

_I'm definitely not drafting the list of sexual favors. If he wants to ask about that one…shoot, he's the one that started listing things. I'm just a glorified secretary! _

I took a bite of the muffin top and chewed slowly, thinking.

_No Way! I'm giving myself a promotion...I'll be the Senior Executive in charge of Amorous Affairs. _

I mulled over that job title in my head as I took a sip of my drink.

_Screw that! Senior Executive my ass! I'll make him the President since he clearly knows more than I do, but I'm the Vice President. Doesn't the Vice get veto power from time to time? I don't even know - this really isn't my field. _

_Wait, aren't there sometimes several VPs? _

I set down my drink with a thud, quickly rejecting that idea.

_Hell no! Not in this company. We'll restructure and make it a two person system at the top. HA!_

I got out my phone to text Edward, brainstorming the most nauseating pet names I could come up with on my notepad. I came up with: honey bug, lover dover, and sweet treat.

He came back with sugar lips after I used my first one. I squirmed in my seat and giggled like an idiot because he was finally playing back.

_Sugar lips, huh? Is that innocent or naughty? Probably both._

_I wonder if he'll relate "sweet treat" to our argument about the candy store._

I was messaging back and forth with him when I realized that he didn't know about the picture or Alice's gift.

I sent a message complimenting his choice of flowers by quoting Alice.

_Should I tell him about my little adventure?_

_No way…too embarrassing. Just let him know that you have acquired some new equipment and that you're thinking about him. Make him think that you're _going_ to use it eventually, that way he can't ask you how it went. You can't give details if you haven't done the deed._

My fingers sped over the keypad on the phone as I sent the message letting him know I was beginning my own sex life.

_Of course he wants to know what kind of gift. There's no way in hell I am telling him those details._

I decided to at least let him know that it required batteries.

_Let him know that he's on your mind. He'll like that._

I remembered to ask him for his email address at the last second. I emailed him the documents I'd drafted, wondering what he would think. It was time to go. I gathered everything back into a manageable load. Someone stopped me as I was packing up my belongings. It was a guy with short black hair and a pair of those enlarged plugs in his ears. I shuddered with revulsion. He was asking the time, which was lame, because there was a giant clock on the wall behind my head.

_Shoot, I think my loser magnet has kicked back in._ _How to get rid of him? Damn, he's still talking. Good grief, what about? _

_Well, Bella. He repulses you; simply make yourself repulsive to him. _

My head spun with ways to appear gross. An idea dawned on me.

My phone chirped. It was a text message. I pressed the volume button as though I was turning it on, and pressed it to my ear.

"Mandy!" I answered. "You'd better hurry…I'm totally dying here." I nodded my head as though listening to someone on the other line. "Did you get the extra strength cream? You know the one with the antibiotic, anti-itch stuff? Well, no. It has to be extra strength. No, I don't know how I got this. If I knew, he would be dead."

I looked up. The boy was gone. Loser destroyed.

_Bella wins again…_

I looked down at my phone. It was a text from Edward. I began reading as I walked out the door of Starbuck's and into the balmy evening air.

FROM EDWARD:

AT YOUR PLACE. WHERE R U?

FROM BELLA:

STARBUCK'S. STARTED WALK HM.

FROM EDWARD:

DON' T BUDGE AN INCH. BE RIGHT THERE. YOU'RE IN TROUBLE.

I froze on the sidewalk, rereading his last text.

_You're in trouble, Bella. _

_Um, why is he being cryptic? _

_Maybe he wants to discuss your misdeeds in person._

_Deep fried shit on a stick. I don't even know for sure why he's miffed. _

_Think, Bella. Where did you screw up?_

_I told him about the karaoke thing. I told him what Alice said about the flowers. I told him about Alice's' gift. Alice's sex toy gift. Edward is sexually obsessive. SHIT, SHIT, SHIT! When will you learn to think first?_

_And, you told him you were walking home. Sun's already gone down. You're standing on a street corner in Westwood, two blocks away from the hookers that hang out after movie premieres._

_Is it the vibrator thing, or is it the walking home after dusk thing?_

_Duh! You should have said you were still _inside_ the Starbuck's._

_Double Duh. You shouldn't have said anything about the rabbit! Oh No!_

_Crikey, Bella. What a moron you are. You told your sexually obsessive boyfriend that you plan on fantasizing about him while buzzing yourself to oblivion. Of course that set him off. Ugh! Extreme Texter's Remorse. Must think before letting thumbs do stupid shit._

_Now, about the other issue. It's okay; it's just a tactical error. You have to gather your arguments, Bella. (1) It's only four blocks and it's not a horrible neighborhood. (2) I need my exercise! (3) Why are you stalking me? I just saw you this morning. _

_Thank God he's stalking me; I miss him already. Maybe after I win the argument I can convince him to stay the night to make it up to me. (4) Do I really need a number four? Maybe I can just bat my eyelashes at him and look grateful for his assistance._

_Okay. I think you just set the women's movement back about forty years with that one, Swan._

His silver Volvo pulled up to the curb next to me. I looked inside. He didn't look mad exactly, but he didn't look overjoyed either. He parked illegally and got out to help me with my belongings and drink. His leather jacket draped smoothly over his broad shoulders. I wanted to stroke the leather and then maybe practice stroking him a bit.

_Shoot, even when there's an argument brewing, he still affects me. _

When we were inside the car again and heading back to my place, I chanced a glance again. He was clearly thinking about something. There was a tick in his jaw, and his hands were gripping the steering wheel.

"Why am I upset with you, Bella?"

_Shoot. Shoot. Shoot. He's supposed to complain first, not get me to admit fault._

"You were hoping to join my happy time, and you're mad that I'm not having happy time right now?"

He took off his sunglasses and sighed, setting them into a cubbyhole in the dashboard.

"Try again."

"You just have a hair-triggered temper and get mad for no reason sometimes."

He rolled his eyes at me.

"Uh. My safety?"

We were only two blocks away now. He was driving rather fast.

"Bingo."

"It's only four blocks away and it's barely dusk! Westwood has a relatively low crime rate, too."

"Bella…."

He pulled into a parking space near the curb, and got out to walk with me through the gate and down the path.

"I make this walk all the time, Edward. You're being unreasonable." He held out his hand for my keys and unlocked the door for me.

He continued the argument as we walked inside my place. I stepped in right behind him and closed the door. "I have no problem with you walking the neighborhood in daylight, or with me. I do have a problem with you walking home alone in the dark with your knack for falling down. I also have a problem with you unwittingly making yourself a target. Do you realize that carrying an expensive laptop only makes you more appealing to rob, among other things?"

"Okay. I'll concede that walking home in the fading light with a costly piece of equipment is probably not my smartest move. But, why did you just show up at my place anyhow? You just saw me this morning. I thought we were going to get some things done."

"Are you done?" he asked me in a silky tone of voice, walking slowly towards me.

"Uh. Yeh. Yeah. I'm done," I stammered, backing into the kitchen counter.

"What is your normal bed time on a Sunday night, Bella?" His eyes were scorching me and I felt the familiar ache from before reignite in my depths.

"Somewhere around eleven, I would say." My butt dug into the tile countertop as his hands landed on either side of me.

Technically, he wasn't touching me anywhere at all. But I felt crowded a little, and his breath was brushing over my face.

"Do you know what it did to me when you told me you had received Alice's gift and that you were thinking of me?" He leaned in to place a soft kiss on my neck. My eyes must have rolled back in my head a little bit.

"You were filled with delight that I have such a considerate friend?" My voice cracked at the end.

"Nope. Try again." His hands settled on my hips and squeezed gently, testing the resilience of my flesh. His palms cupped almost all the way around my body.

"Ya-You had thoughts about joining the circus?" He chuckled and brought his hands up and down, stroking me.

"God, Bella. You have to know the effect you have on me by now." He leaned in to me fully, letting my softness feel his hardness. I gasped and clutched onto his upper arms for support. "I was sitting at my drafting desk when you messaged me. I had determined to leave you alone. I was settled on it. But the idea of you, at home, alone, thinking about me….it was more than I have the strength to withstand. I'm pretty disciplined in most areas of my life, except when it comes to you. Speaking of discipline, why didn't you just drive to the coffee shop?"

"It was half past three when I left home. Time got away from me because I was having fun. I didn't think I'd stay as long as I did, and I was making that stuff to send to you." I tried looking up at him through my eyelashes. "You're not super mad at me, are you?"

"Can you at least try not to put yourself in situations where you give me cause to worry about you?" He went back to kissing my neck, this time at the place where my shoulder curved upwards.

I twisted my head down to his and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Pulling back, I said, "I think I messaged you because I really wanted you here tonight. I have it just as bad as you do. I was thinking of a way to convince you to stay the night while you were driving to meet me. Let's go into my room and talk some more."

We walked holding hands into the bedroom. He stepped in hesitantly, not sitting on the bed next to me, but instead leaning against the wall near my closet. I wondered at the change in his mood or self-assurance.

"I brought something for you, Bella." The sexual confidence from a moment before seemed to have disappeared. In its place was a more hesitant version of Edward. He was leaning forward slowly and wasn't meeting my eyes. He pulled a small hard-bound book from behind his back. It had been tucked into his jeans. The book had a jogger on the front.

_That's odd...Oh! This must be The Book. Turn the sarcasm off, Bella. This is the personal stuff._

Delaying this most serious conversation I said, "So, when is your first class in the morning, Edward? Would you like to stay the night, or would that be unwise?"

He seemed to be thinking about his answer carefully. "My first class isn't until ten. I would love to stay the night, but I have no overnight things with me…"

"Would you rather we just spend a little time together and then part? Or, would you rather I go over to your place where you have all of your stuff?"

"You wouldn't mind dragging yourself over there tonight?" He walked over to me, lightly tossing the book onto the corner of my rumpled bedcovers. He sat down next to me.

I repeated his phrasing from our earlier text message. "Anything for you, my heart." He smiled and kissed me gently. "Just let me gather my things for class and for overnight. It will just take a minute."

"Can I help you at all?"

"The bag I had earlier is going, and that small set of books is going too." I pointed to a few texts on my dresser.

I grabbed my gym bag, because it had a larger capacity, and I had more to bring this time. Locating a change of clothes for the morning, a pair of sleep clothes, a few toiletries, and my wallet, I stuffed everything in the bag and zipped it closed. We locked up and headed back to his car. It didn't take long to make it to his place as we practically lived in the same neighborhood surrounding the university.

**A/N: **_**Robinson Crusoe**_** was one of my favorite books back in college. I had fun looking for the right quotation to begin the chapter. I was going to use a much abused **_**Velveteen Rabbit**_** quotation when I came to my senses and tried again.**

**Reviews are almost as good as being shipwrecked with Edward in paradise. Okay, so that's total crap. I really just enjoy communicating back and forth with all of you. **


	15. Ardent Admiration

**A/N: Posted on my profile is an outline for the fictitious sex manual: **_**Finishing the Race on Your Own Terms**_**. It's just a listed outline; there's no text to read or anything like that. I thought you might be curious about what all would be in that book.**

**I must express thanks yet again to my Beta, TwilightMomofTwo for her tireless efforts on behalf of this little smut fest. At this point in time, the story is beta-ed all the way through. Future chapters you receive will go through editing before you get them. Any mistakes currently found are entirely my fault.**

**Many changes have been made throughout the whole story. The timeline on Chapters 13 and 14 has shifted quite a bit. If you didn't understand that Bella lied to Edward in previous chapters, I strongly recommend that you re-read Ch. 13-14 before continuing. **

**This chapter contains frank sexual discussion, a graphic anatomy lesson, as well as a lemon, so swim away if you don't want to end up in the deep end of the pool, folks. Or swim faster if that's your idea of a good time ;)**

From Chapter 14:

I grabbed my gym bag and placed a change of attire for the morning, a pair of sleep clothes, a few toiletries, and my wallet inside. We locked up and headed back to his car. It didn't take long to make it to his place as we practically lived in the same neighborhood surrounding the university.

Chapter 15

Ardent Admiration

"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

_-_Fitzwilliam Darcy

_Pride and Prejudice_

Jane Austen, 1813

EPOV

I pulled the Volvo into my spot in the carport and exited the driver's side, walking around the car to help Bella with her gym bag and books. We walked around glowing palm trees lit with landscape lighting from below. Night-blooming jasmine made the air smell cloyingly sweet, and the atmosphere hung thick and heavy with a gathering storm. Clouds massed above, blocking out the moon.

_I wonder what her expectations are for tonight. _

_You could always just ask her. _

_I don't want to just ask her; that's too blunt._

_Do what you normally do. Bring it up and decide things together._

"It's dark tonight," she commented softly.

"I think the weather report mentioned a chance of overnight showers. The clouds are traveling pretty quickly. Most likely Santa Barbara will get all of our rain. It always seems to miss us and pour over there," I observed inanely.

"Yeah, no fair," she said, joining in on my weather discussion. I opened the door with my free hand and held it open for her. She flipped on the light switch by the door.

"I'm just going to put your bags in my room, okay?" I announced, while heading for the other end of the apartment. I heard her voice shout something about 'hungry' while I was setting things down. I deposited her bag and books against the wall near my closet.

"You said something about hunger," I said while heading in the direction of her voice. "I didn't hear the first part."

"I said, 'Are you hungry? I had a snack, but not a real meal,'" Bella clarified.

"I had a late lunch, so I don't have a big appetite," I responded.

"What about a pot of tea and some sandwiches?" she offered, already looking in the refrigerator and grabbing mustard and pickles from the door. Then she was searching for something in the pantry.

"That sounds great, actually," I replied, pointing to the shelf with the tea and coffee after she had moved something out of the way. She took down the Earl Grey and a tea set made of white stoneware. Her eyebrows were wrinkled together as she inspected the little cream jug.

"I found some canned tuna. Is that okay? I think I can make it without mayonnaise," she conjectured, pointing to the can by my hands which were resting on the counter.

"That's perfect," I responded, surprised at her faultless memory for my likes and dislikes.

"I have a load of laundry that I'm going to go fold. Do you have everything you need here?"

"Yup. Go harass some socks."

"It's jeans, actually," I yelled, already halfway back to my room. I turned into the hallway housing the washer and dryer to grab the basket of clothes before heading to my room.

_I could get used to this. Sunday nights are usually so boring. There's nothing to do but kill time until the weekend is over. Even a mundane task holds more appeal when she's around._

My hands made quick work of the basket of wrinkled jeans. I smoothed them into order and piled the stack in my closet on one of the shelves. They were creased, but I could always toss them in the dryer if need be.

Grabbing the load of soiled clothing from the closet, I headed for the bathroom and added the contents of that laundry bin as well. I shuffled over to the small laundry nook and opened the door on the front loading washer. It didn't take long to load things, set the machine, and add detergent. I heard her voice from the other room, telling me that everything was ready. I walked back into the main sitting area which was open to the kitchen. I grabbed my issue of 'Men's Health' from the table and tossed it on the floor beside the couch before sitting down. She had everything set out on the coffee table. There was a plate of sandwiches cut in half, and the tea service was arranged next to plates, spoons, and paper towels. The running book was set next to some post-it notes, pens, and highlighters. I settled into the couch and looked over at her. She poured a cup of tea and handed it to me.

"This looks great, Bella. You don't do anything half way."

"Thanks," she answered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Where on earth did you get this tea set? I don't think I've ever known a man who had a whistling kettle, let alone an imported tea set from England," she said with surprise in her voice. I poured a little milk into my cup.

"I spent two weeks near London with some relatives on Carlisle's side of the family, the summer after high school. My great uncle Theodore Cullen is the one who got me drinking tea with milk. I'm not uptight enough to use loose tea leaves like he does. He sent me home with that set. It's nothing fancy, but it reminds me of that visit."

I took a tentative sip of the tea, testing for temperature – it wasn't too hot to drink. "I've probably used that set once. If I'm alone, I don't usually bother." She poured herself a cup of tea and sipped it slowly.

_Shoot, you basically just admitted you almost never have anyone over._

"How old were you when your parents were killed?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"I was twelve." I picked up a sandwich, and tried it, chewing slowly. It was strong with the flavor of mustard and pickles and olive oil, but actually very good.

"That must have been really difficult to lose them at that age." Her voice was sympathetic, and I saw a flash of pain on her face.

I tried to think of an age that would have been better and I couldn't. "How old were you when your father died?"

"I had just finished my first year of college. I was nineteen," she replied evenly.

"That must have been awful for you."

_Both of us will reach milestones in life without one or both of our parents. I'm very lucky to have Esme and Carlisle. She must miss her father. She doesn't bring him up, ever._

She was putting down her sandwich when I noticed her frozen stare. She was thinking about something and her gaze had settled on the silent television set.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked, setting my half-empty mug of tea on the table. I had finished the sandwich.

"My mind wandered," she responded, shaking off the thought. "I wasn't thinking about our tragic stories any more. I was actually thinking about us."

"Really? What in particular?" I settled into the corner of the couch, my arm along the back.

"Well, it's about your numbers…" she related, trailing off. I silently encouraged her to continue by threading our fingers together along the top of the couch. "What does our sexual relationship do to your count?" she inquired, turning to look at me. "How do we define the parameters for what is 'normal' for us and what is sexually obsessive?"

_Hmm. That's a really good question. How do I answer?_

I thought for a moment, and then it came to me.

"Maybe we can adapt what Carlisle said. Perhaps we can define normal in our own way. What do you think about that?" I kicked off my shoes and put my feet up on the sofa crossing them next to her body which was already facing me. She fiddled with the hem of my jeans.

"I think we should do some reading before it gets any later." She tapped my knee, urging me to move for a second and then swung her legs forward, grabbed the book and a highlighter, and resettled closer to me. "Is there any particular chapter you want me look at first?"

I grabbed my magazine and opened it up to the article I had been reading. "I've already gone through the book and marked it up while I was reading things. I left off at the end of chapter five. Of course, you're welcome to anything in the book that interests you. The first half of chapter four is definitely relevant, and chapter five is required reading. Emmett suggested chapter ten. I have an article that I want to read while you look things over," I stated, indicating my magazine.

She glanced over at me, then uncapped the highlighter and opened up the first few pages, appearing to skim-read something. I looked down at my article entitled, 'The Percentage of Men Dealing with PE May Shock You'. I struggled to get back into reading, my mind still on Bella.

_Please be okay with this. _

_What if she's not?_

_Worst-case scenario, she'll be a little bit embarrassed, although she's sometimes surprisingly well-adjusted to all of this. I wonder why that is? It's almost as though she gets embarrassed more about herself than she gets about me. She's incredibly understanding. I love her…that about her. I…wait…I love her?_

My mind struggled to put my thoughts in order. The magazine was in danger of being crumpled in my hands before I realized I needed to loosen my grip. I made a conscious effort to relax each tense finger from its death grip.

"I think I'm going to go do some cardio. Do you need anything?" I asked, getting up slowly, trying for nonchalance, but failing miserably. My mind was reeling with my realization. Was I truly falling in love with Bella? Was it too soon? I shook my head slightly to clear my addled brain.

_Don't be an idiot, Edward. Can't you see what's happening to you? Can you recall a time you've ever felt this way for a girl? No? Then shut the hell up and get on that treadmill._

She mumbled an, "Mmmm, kay," her head still bent and her lower lip stuck between her teeth.

I walked down the hallway in a daze of consternation. I dressed like an automaton in my shorts, shirt, and running shoes before walking into the extra room. The treadmill was waiting for me.

BPOV

I had already finished reading through the third chapter entitled, 'Sexuality and the Male Mind,' which was actually fascinating. It spoke of how human sexuality is linked to a sense of self-worth, regardless of gender. The chapter, however, argued that men sometimes have a more intense connection between performance and self-worth due to traditional gender roles. I wanted to keep reading, but the chapter had delved back to the time of cavemen, and I didn't want to review the content from my Anthropology 100 class from last spring. I glanced at the table of contents and then flipped back to page five, which was the start of the second chapter.

From 'Finishing The Race On Your Own Terms'…

Chapter Two: Statistical Data

It is one of man's most common, underestimated sexual problems: ejaculating earlier than desired. More common than erectile dysfunction, this condition can affect men at any point in their lives, and one in four men experience poor control over ejaculation on a frequent basis.

Thirty-two percent of nearly 1200 men surveyed over the age of twenty-one in stable heterosexual relationships identified themselves as sufferers of PE in an online questionnaire.

I put down my highlighter in shock.

_One in four experiences this on a frequent basis? Why doesn't anyone ever say anything about this? _

_Oh, well, yeah. That would be rather demeaning for a girlfriend or a wife to reveal, and highly unlikely for a man to ever broach. Look how long it took Edward to talk about this with you, and you've both agreed to talk about these kinds of things!_

I checked the table of contents yet again, and then flipped forward in the book to chapter four, hoping to get more definitive information on what classifies a person as a 'sufferer'.

Chapter Four: Defining Sexual Dysfunctions

The medical definition for premature ejaculation is when a man ejaculates during intercourse sooner than he or his partner wishes him to. The causes are usually emotional or psychological in nature. Rarely is the cause for premature ejaculation a physical or structural one. The most common cause for premature ejaculation is usually found to be anxiety.

_Is Edward anxious about sex? Perhaps the insatiability condition made him feel different and confused. It would make sense that his frustration with himself at age eighteen, no less, would lead to problems. From what he told me, his experience was all extremes – delayed onset of sexual maturity, followed by an insane sex drive, and lastly performance anxiety caused by his condition, followed by failure with the women in his life while he was trying to 'be normal'._

_Oh my God! He gave up – just like you did. What was it he said?_

'I had been stagnating for a long time. I guess I lost my motivation.'

_He was ready to throw in the towel just like you were. How utterly devastating. He had nothing to look forward to, nothing to hope for. He probably threw himself into school, keeping busy in order to have something on which to focus._

_Okay, Bella. Find the chapter where you help him with this. He needs someone to get him through this. Look at how committed he is to helping you. The man literally puts himself through sleepless nights just to take it slow so you can learn to trust him. Reading a few insightful chapters in a book is a piece of cake in comparison._

I went back to the table of contents, which was proving to be very helpful. I found chapter five which was called, 'Treatment and Methodology'. I listened as the treadmill stopped. A few seconds later I heard the shower running in the hall bathroom.

Chapter Five: PE Treatment and Methodology

Method #1: The Start and Stop Method

This method involves using sexual stimulation until the man recognizes that he is about to ejaculate. This recognition is sometimes called the moments before 'the point of no return'. At this point the stimulation is then stopped for about thirty seconds. Once a measure of control is regained stimulation can then be resumed. This stop and start sequence is repeated until ejaculation is desired. Then the final time, the stimulation can continue until ejaculation occurs. The goal of this method is to retrain the connections between the body and the brain to respond to the subject's mental request to delay ejaculation. There is a break down in the PE male between what the mind requests and how the body responds. Both persons using the start and stop method must commit to using the technique until progress is evident. Failure to commit to the method can lead to further or continued problems.

I highlighted the last two sentences because they seemed so important_. _

_There does not appear to be any room for ambivalence when working on this. _

_At least I'm good at making up my mind. I can be determined._

_Perhaps that's not the best approach. That sounds horrible._

_Okay. _

_At least he's used to me making requests of him. _

_There you go - gentle requests - he doesn't seem to mind those too much._

I went back to reading, this time about the second method.

Method #2: The Squeeze Methods

Squeeze and Withhold

The squeeze and withhold method involves sexual stimulation until just prior to the 'point of no return'. Once the man senses that he is about to ejaculate, his partner stops sexual stimulation and gently squeezes the tip or the base of the penis for several seconds. Further stimulation is withheld for thirty seconds and then resumed. The couple may choose to repeat the sequence as many times as they like, or continue stimulation until ejaculation is desired. These exercises have little benefit if conducted by the man himself and require the participation of a partner.

Squeeze and Begin Again

At the point when he is about to ejaculate, the partner squeezes the penis hard enough to make him partially or completely lose his erection. The couple then resumes foreplay until an erection is attained again. By circling the hand just below the head of the penis, a squeeze will prevent ejaculation. The goal of this technique is to train the man to become aware of the sensations leading up to orgasm, and then to train him to control and delay his orgasm on his own. This technique progresses from manual stimulation to motionless intercourse to intercourse with both moving. Researchers Masters and Johnson reported that ninety-eight percent of couples who learned and used these techniques had success treating premature ejaculation.

An involuntary blush spread across my cheeks as I read the squeezing section. I chewed on the cap of the highlighter as I imagined working on this with him.

_Wow. 'These exercises have little benefit if conducted by the man himself and require the participation of a partner'. Good grief! Even if he wanted to try to work on this on his own, he needs a buddy for therapy. That is so unreasonable. I can just imagine him wanting to fix things before he made himself vulnerable with a woman, and then realizing that would never work. For a man with PE, there is no fixing himself – at least if he has a serious case, it seems._

_What an unrelenting mindfuck! That is so totally wrong. I wonder why it doesn't work alone at all. It must have something to do with the nervous system and anticipating things. A person can't really trick his own brain. Ha! That would be like trying to play chess with yourself. You know all of your own moves before they happen. Or, maybe it's like trying to tickle yourself – it just does not work at all. _

_So I wonder - what's the right amount to squeeze? Too gentle would be ineffective and too hard sounds painful. We're not going to get through this unless we talk, a lot._

I had had enough of reading by myself. Armed with all of this knowledge, I wanted to go and hug him or console him.

_However, that might be the wrong approach. That might come off as pity, and I hate pity. He's probably just as prideful as I am. Tread carefully, Bella. Don't fuck this up._

I left the highlighter and book on the coffee table, and walked toward his room. I found him lying on his back in bed, the covers undisturbed. He had his arms folded behind his head and he appeared to be contemplating the ceiling. His hair was still damp from the shower.

"Hey," I said softly, choosing to curl up next to him, my head resting on his right shoulder.

"Hey, yourself," he said back.

_I wonder what he is thinking._

"I'm totally blown away by what I read," I stated, looking at the ceiling to give him some space. I didn't want him to feel as though I was staring at him.

"Really?" he said, and I felt his head shift to try and peer over at me. I tilted my head up and kissed his chin because it was there.

"Ever heard of a catch-22?" I questioned, my expression deadpan.

"I may have read about that somewhere," he said with a slight grin.

"Edward."

"Yes, Bella?"

"You know when it was my turn, you allowed me to determine what would come next? I started to freak out, and you said we could do whatever we wanted. We could just talk or cuddle or simply go to sleep?" I leaned my forehead against his chin, liking the warm pressure of lying next to him.

"I remember saying that, yes." He was slow to answer, clearly thinking back to the other night.

"Well," I began slowly. "I'm extending you the same courtesy. There's no pressure coming from my end. I'm ready if you need me to be, but I also don't want to force or rush anything." He sighed and it sounded as though he was thinking. One arm reached down to trail up and down my back.

"Talk to me for a little bit; I want to know why you were, blown away."

I twisted my body in towards his a little more and settled my right hand on top of his black t-shirt. I couldn't resist the opportunity to rub circles on his chest with my index finger. "I started reading the chapter about the male mind in regards to sex. I mean, I know intellectually that there is pressure on the guy for sex to go well." My hand had fisted on his chest. "Women probably feel some pressure as well, but there seems to be a double standard there. It's almost as though he has to be perfect in this 'ladies first' post-feminist world we've created." I chuckled. "You end up in charge of the whole show, when in reality it should be more of a shared responsibility, don't you think?"

"I hadn't though about it quite like that, but there does seem to be a lot of pressure." He leaned his head down and kissed my temple. His arms wrapped around me.

"It went on to describe the natural male instinct to protect, take care of, and provide for loved ones. Those instincts are strongly ingrained, I think. When a man falters at that task, it's almost as though he's defying the very definition of a man."

He turned slowly and gripped me under the arms, like a child. He pulled me gently up the bed until I was lying on one of the pillows facing him. It was almost like an NBH without the N. "Keep going, I can see that's just the tip of the iceberg."

I grinned in memory at the last time he'd used arctic imagery on me in the Starbuck's lounge on our first date. "I read some of the statistics in the third chapter; I think it was the third chapter, anyway. Who knew that approximately one third of the male population out there goes through something like what you're going through, and almost no one is talking about it. Can those numbers possibly be wrong?"

"The American Urological Association is a fairly well respected research organization. There is probably some differentiation up or down, but I doubt it's that far off the mark." His voice trailed off at the end as we descended into a thoughtful pause.

He prompted, "And?", willing me to continue.

"I have a question for you, Edward. Your answer will urge me to share something back."

He looked into my eyes, curious. He pressed his lips to my forehead. "Ask away."

"Had you given up?" I said with faltering confidence. I didn't want to insult him. "You told me, after I got the flowers, that you had been stagnating, that you had lost your motivation. I guess I want to know if you had lost hope."

"Yes." There was an aching sadness in me at that small syllable. I tucked my head down under his chin so that I could reciprocate the same information.

"I gave up too, you know," I said with easy candor. I pressed my nose into his shirt breathing the smell of his laundry detergent. "I had even determined that if things crashed and burned with you that I was done. I just couldn't take the idea of screwing up yet again."

"What do you mean, you gave up?" he questioned with some skepticism. I wondered why the concept was hard for him to accept.

"I was ready to give up – there didn't seem to be a point to trying anymore. I figured managing my panic attacks was enough. Fear of failure was keeping me from trying again. You see, I don't really know how to flirt, and when nothing but losers approach you, it gets disheartening."

"Losers made everything more difficult for you," he said in agreement.

"You know that first Saturday we spent together?" I asked, trying to jog his memory.

"Of course," he replied. "We talked forever and went to the chicken place for lunch."

_Ha! Even he calls it the chicken place now._

"There was a second when I was staring at you, and you asked me what I was thinking. Can you recall that?"

"I think so," he said. "You answered me that you were thinking about learning the meaning of MBC, but you had this sad look on your face. I suspected something was off in your answer, but I let it go."

I puckered my forehead, trying to recall my negative thoughts. "I remember actually thinking that you were a person who deserves a complete and wonderful girl. When considering myself in reference to you, I seemed partially formed, broken and dismal. I remember thinking, 'If this doesn't work, then I'm done with this nonsense'. There's no use torturing yourself, right?"

"Oh, Bella," he sighed. "I wish you had told me then. You were so completely wrong about that. It kills me to think of you so alone in that mind of yours. Please promise to let me in a little bit more?"

I snorted, nuzzling against his neck. "Uh, that's what I'm doing right now. You want to know something else about losers?" I felt his head nod as he answered silently. "I had to pretend to have a case of raging female itch to get rid of one tonight."

"You had to do what?" he said with shock in his voice. His arms tensed around me probably at the idea of another guy hitting on me. I quickly told him about the boy with rubber ear-art. His arms relaxed, and he gave a chuckle when I told him what I'd said into my phone. I hugged him back, throwing a leg over his hips until we were in a reclining full body hug. After a few moments he spoke again.

He tugged on the leg that was hitched over him adjusting our contact by palming me behind my knee. "I have a hard time accepting that you wanted to give up on your sexuality. I mean, you were so close, and you didn't even know it. It's not like it took us months to get you there – we didn't even have a false start with you…" He shook his head back and forth, staring at the ceiling again. I pulled away trying to loosen his hold. He looked down at me in question.

"I think I want to go change into my sleep clothes. What time is it?"

"It's only 8:30. It feels later, doesn't it?" I walked over to my bag which was leaning against the wall. I grabbed my toothbrush and my pjs along with my stretchy headband and face wash. Walking to the bathroom and switching on the light, I started brushing my teeth. The door to the bathroom was open so I could still talk to him.

I spit out toothpaste and spoke with minty taste in my mouth. "I think it's because this is intense for us. Time always moves slowly when you're doing something that requires concentration. At least, for me it does." I turned back to the mirror to finish brushing my teeth. When my pearly whites were done, I quickly undressed and slipped into my Bob the Builder pajamas. I gave my face a quick scrub to wash off the grime of the day and returned to his bed, tossing my discarded clothing in a pile by my bag.

"Hey," I said, something bothering me. I resettled on my stomach, my chin in my hands. "Why is it appalling if I give up on my sexuality, but totally understandable from your point of view if you give up on yours? How is that even logical in your head?" I was genuinely puzzled as to how he could explain this to me.

"What was that expression you used the other day?" he said, his eyes squinting a little. 'A steaming pile of failure,' is what I believe you said. That's how I've felt about this area of my life for so long, that giving up seemed much more reasonable than subjecting someone else to being with me."

"Oh, Edward," I sighed, crawling back up into his arms. "But, you're so good at this stuff. Can't you see how much you have to offer? I mean," I tucked my head back near his armpit. "You played me like an instrument." I mumbled the last part a little, but he still heard me.

"An instrument, huh?" he said, "which one? Would that be a violin, or perhaps something from the brass section? I think a violin because they sing so sweetly," he decided, pressing a series of soft kisses into my neck.

I continued, determined to finish, despite his humor and distracting kisses. "You didn't falter; you knew just what to do with me. I can't help but think that with the right setting, with the right communication between us, you'll be just as masterful when you _aren't_ using your hands." I managed to get all of that out, but my face felt like it was a hundred degrees.

"Masterful," he pronounced, his breath huffing into my hair. "You don't seem to lack for expressive words when it comes to me. I think dating a logophile has its rewards."

He moved to trail another series of kisses back up my neck, making me squirm. I needed to put some distance between us, or I would be a panting, wet mess and totally unable to do anything for him. I wiggled away.

"So can we try this, or would you rather we sleep on it?" I asked him slowly.

Gazing into my eyes, he cautiously took my hand and cupped it around his hardness. I gasped, closed my eyes, and bit my lip.

_He's so thick, and pulsing, and hard. I like this already and we haven't even done anything yet._

"I don't think I can sleep on this, Bella," he said with rueful amusement. My hand shaped him, moving up and down to test the boundaries of his breadth and length from over his sleep pants. I withdrew my hand to clear my head.

"It's not that I want to stop," I explained, shaking my head and breathing with a little difficulty. "I'm trying to keep a clear head here, and you're devastating to my senses. I wanted to ask you something." I tried to escapee the fog of arousal that was hovering over me, and to ignore the aching need in my own body. "I'm going to use my hand, right? Do we need anything to make that work? I'm not the most experienced when it comes to this, but I know that dry rubbing isn't a good thing."

"And how did you acquire this knowledge, fair Bella?" he said with some puzzled amusement in his voice.

"I don't think a person can finish high school without hearing multiple references to lotion and horny males. I can use deductive reasoning even though I'm not a mathematician or a philosophy buff," I huffed out, slightly self-conscious.

He reached over to the nightstand and opened a drawer. Shoving around the few things that were inside, he produced a small bottle of clear liquid, and pulled several tissues from the box resting near the bedside lamp.

"Previous content, Bella," he rumbled, soothing me. "I can feel you getting tense. I brought that stuff over here so it would be ready _when_ we need it, not so that you feel you have to go to work right away. This shouldn't be work at all. It's supposed to be fun," he said with a self-effacing chuckle.

I heaved out a huge sigh of tension I didn't even know had been building. Forcing myself to breathe and relax a little, I remembered what he had said the last time we were working on me.

"I'm clinging to your epiphany from last night," I admitted slowly.

"Clinging to my what?" he repeated, clearly lost as to my meaning.

I couldn't help but laugh at my random phrase to explain my mediocrity. "I'm not going for perfection here, Edward. I expect to fail a little bit. So what, right? Hell, I've never done this before. I'll be happy if I don't hurt you. You're going to need to tell me what to do, pretty much every step of the way."

He went back to kissing my neck, scooting closer and whispering against my ear when he spoke. "I can guide you, and from what I've learned, you take instruction very well," he breathed, sucking the very tip of my earlobe into his mouth.

I moaned with a squeak at the end because of what he was doing to my ear. "You make it …." I closed my eyes and gasped this time. "…very hard for me to make this about you." I swallowed and tried to refocus on what should happen next. I placed my hand on his cheek and turned his head to kiss him. "Do you think you could take off your shirt?" I managed to ask. He freed himself from my embrace and leaned up to pull his shirt off over his head, tossing it to the ground. He returned back to my arms, and we held each other for a moment enjoying the feel of my cheek pressed against his chest. I trailed my fingers up and down his torso, watching the reflexive twitch of the muscles in his chest in response to my hand. Turning my hand over, I rubbed the backs of my fingers over his nipple wondering if it responded as mine did. It tightened a little, but looked entirely different from my own body. I wrapped my arms around him and breathed for a moment, gathering courage to ask the next request of him.

"May I untie your drawstring?" He nodded and muttered a yes before going back to take possession of my lower lip. Our tongues met and danced for a few seconds before I hesitantly trailed my hand down his chest. My fingers tangled in the cord at his waist, and I pulled away to see what I needed to untie.

_Ah, success. Okay, you've got it untied, Bella. Now take them off. You can do it. _

"Is pants off okay, Edward?" I asked, just a little breathless at what we were about to do. His eyes met mine and he slowly nodded. My heart pounded at the intensity of the focus of his eyes on me. He seemed unashamed of his submissive vulnerability.

_He's giving himself over to you, just like you did for him._

I hooked my fingers around the waistband of his pants, lifting the front up and over his erection before sliding them the rest of the way down. I concentrated on freeing his legs rather than staring at him.

_This has to be unnerving for him. Don't stare._

_But I want to look!_

_Okay, you can look a little __bit, but don't be obvious._

"It's okay to look at me, Bella," he said, reading my mind.

_How does he do that?_

"I just don't want to stare at you like some kind of zoo attendee." He laughed at my choice of words.

"Bella, this would be really difficult to do without looking. Let's treat this as a brief review in anatomy. Did you skip school that day or something?"

"I think I fractured my leg during spring semester of biology. I did a project from home instead."

"Well," he said, chuckling. "Relax, and let me help you out a little bit. There are some things you need to know before we begin." His voice was quiet and calm and I couldn't help but loosen up a little bit at his matter-of-fact tone. He sat up in bed, and scooted back to lean against the headboard in a sitting position. He tugged on my hand until I was sitting beside him holding his right hand while he gestured with his left.

"I have an intact penis," he declared, beginning with the basics. "That means I'm not circumcised, and everything that's supposed to be there, is there. My real dad growing up wasn't circumcised either, and my parents went with, 'the baby should match the daddy philosophy'. Handling me is different than handling someone who is circumcised."

"Different how?" I said with genuine curiosity.

"That's a really long discussion that I could sum up with a few key facts. This part right here, which I can move up and down, is called the foreskin. It has many purposes, at least a dozen or so. Probably the most important purpose is to protect the sensitive skin at the glans – this part here," he explained, rolling back flesh to reveal a pink, glistening membrane. "If a man has a foreskin, you have to be a little bit gentle with it. It needs to be rolled down carefully as it is filled with nerve endings which are there in part for sex and like I said, for protecting the sensitive membrane of the tip against rough elements like clothing. The head of my penis is still really sensitive because I've had this foreskin all of my life to protect it. A circumcised man loses out on that protection and develops less sensitive skin on the glans."

"Anyhow," he said. "Here, give me your hand." I complied, allowing him to wrap my fingers around his shaft. He tensed a little bit and closed his eyes as my hand wrapped around him. "Don't move anything yet, okay?" he requested of me while reaching for the bottle of clear liquid. He flipped the cap and placed a few drops in my hand.

"Are we going to try the squeeze method?" I said before we began.

"We can. Are you comfortable trying that?" he asked and blew out a breath of air because I was still holding him in my hand.

"I'm okay trying it, but I don't know how much pressure to apply, and I don't know whether to squeeze the base or the tip."

"Let's try the base first and see if that even works," he said practically. I moved my hand off of him so that I could kneel facing him. I wanted to be able to see his responses as well as reach him more easily. His fingers gently helped mine to begin moving. The rhythm was slow and measured as I got used to the movement. I looked up at his face. His eyes were squeezed shut and an intense expression of concentration seemed to have taken over his countenance. Moisture seeped out of the tip of his shaft as I moved his skin up and down. I picked up the pace just a little bit and felt his body jerk in response.

"Okay," he said on a gust of air. "Squeeze the base a little, yeah... harder, a little more." I cooperated with his request immediately; applying pressure with both hands, and then even more pressure causing his firm flesh to slowly recede. I rested one hand on the skin of his thigh, giving him a minute for control and counting to thirty in my head. He didn't lose his erection, but it lessened for a minute before bobbing back to attention.

He nodded his head, eyes closed, allowing me to continue. "Make a ring out of your fingers using your thumb and forefinger. That's really good," he encouraged. "Now try to tighten that ring a little bit," he ground out between clenched teeth. My hand stroked his burgeoning length, pressing against the sensitive flesh at the tip before pressing in slightly on the down stroke. I stroked up and down several times listening to the wet noises his body made as I gave him pleasure. He grunted and arched his neck, the muscles straining up and down his body.

_You're doing it, Bella! You're actually doing it. Ack! My hand is getting a little bit tired. Ignore it, look at his face. That is so fucking hot. You're killing him! Ha!_

His body was covered with a fine sheen of sweat, and I could smell the musky fragrance emanating from his body. His arms were shaking a little bit as his muscles tensed. His neck was tilted forward now and the look on his face was unrestrained sex.

A huge grin broke over my face as I successfully made him respond. His eyes were closed, however and he couldn't see my triumphant expression. "Oh, God, Bella…You're doing a …fuck…good job," he groaned and jerked in my hands.

"Squeeze?" I asked quickly. His head bobbed up and down, unable to use words at that precise moment. I applied pressure again to the base until he had control again. "How long are we going to torture you like this?" I asked with a chuckle. "Why don't we let you finish on the next lap of the race?"

"Okay, sweetheart. You're the boss." I was almost finished counting to thirty again. I could feel the wetness of my pajama bottoms pressed against my slick thighs.

_Who knew getting him off would be such an utter and complete turn on? This will make excellent mental footage for my Alice in Wonderland happy time._

"Can I get that in writing?" I said as I began to work his foreskin up and down again. The pressure must have been building inside of him because he was reaching the point of no return much faster. I decided to tell him how good he looked.

"Edward, this has to be the single most erotic moment for me, ever. You're killing me with those hot sex faces. I can't wait until you can be inside me." My hand stroked faster and faster, gripping him with intensity. He gasped and moaned and jerked in my hand, and his pelvis began pushing against my hand, matching my rhythm.

Air expelled from his lungs and his eyes squeezed tighter. His hips bucked off the bed; his thighs pressed together and then he loudly moaned my name. His body shuddered, convulsing, his penis was twitching in my hand, as I kept stroking him still faster, just like he had taught me.

"Oh, God... Bella," he shouted, "yes, yes... I...I'm... holy fuck...yes... "

Glistening gushes of hot seed streamed into the air in separate pulses and then fell back down onto his belly, and over my still-moving hand. He was scrunching up his face as if he was in pain, but in the very next second his features relaxed and a look of utter bliss swept over his face. My fingers were still curled around his length, which was now slowly starting to deflate in my hand. He fell back onto the bed, panting like a racehorse. I slowly let go of him as his hand reached down to readjust his foreskin, and he grabbed some of the tissues to remove the evidence of his pleasure. His eyes were watching me carefully, but I couldn't help the huge smile that was plastered on my face.

_That was the hottest thing I've ever seen. Holy crap, I wanna do it again. The look on his face... Is that what I looked like to him last night? No wonder he couldn't stay away tonight. I'm so screwed. He's got me falling for him head over heels. _

I grabbed a tissue for my own hand, wiped off, and tossed it away. "Come here," he commanded softly. I rolled over to him, my body tight with sexual tension and aching need. I expelled a lungful of air and relaxed against him as much as I could. The urge to squirm and press against him was strong, but I restrained it, giving him his recovery time.

_Let him go to sleep if possible. How awesome would it be for him to have a successful orgasm __with you, followed__ by a normal night's sleep? When he's out, you can go take a shower and slip back into bed with him._

I kissed the top of his head, allowing him to settle against my chest. We both lay prone for a few minutes as his heartbeat returned to normal. I rubbed a hand up and down his back while trying to get my nipples to stand down.

_Go to sleep, Edward. And don't move your head even one inch, dammit. _

**A/N: **

**So both of our kids got their rocks off, and now I have more things to cross off the make out list. **

**I know it's pretty evil of me to stop things right there. Uh, what can I say? Bella is a selfless idiot sometimes. We'll get back to her in the next chapter, I promise. I'd also like to delve into Edward's mind while he was on the treadmill. I'm not sure what he was saying to himself there. Hopefully, it will be interesting. **

**I did not even try to compose the sex chapters from the "book" by myself. Those are lifted almost verbatim from the various websites I used in my research. It didn't make sense to mess around with text that was already accurate and readable. The outline on the profile has all of that information if you need it for some reason.**


	16. Momentum

**A/N: ****All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**I thought perhaps I should put a legitimate disclaimer on here. There is one song during Edward's POV that has some interesting similarities to this story. The link to a decent performance is on my profile, listed by chapter.**

**When life gives you lemons, enjoy more lemons;)**

From Chapter 15:

EPOV

"I think I'm going to go do some cardio. Do you need anything?" I asked, getting up slowly, trying for nonchalance, but failing miserably. My mind was reeling with my realization. Was I truly falling in love with Bella? Was it too soon? I shook my head slightly to clear my addled brain.

_Don't be an idiot, Edward. Can't you see what's happening to you? Can you recall a time you've ever felt this way for a girl? No? Then shut the hell up and get on that treadmill._

She mumbled an, "Mmmm, kay," her head still bent and her lower lip stuck between her teeth.

I walked down the hallway in a daze of consternation. I dressed like an automaton in my shorts, shirt, and running shoes before walking into the extra room. The treadmill was waiting for me.

Chapter 16

**Momentum:**

A noun

A 17th century word derived from the New Latin root

mótus which means movement

A property of a moving body

that determines the length of time

required to bring it to rest

when under the action of a constant force or movement;

The strength or force gained by motion or through the development of events

EPOV

Sunday Evening

6:58PM

Stepping onto the walking surface of the machine, I hit the start button, adjusting the settings to manual, level four. Walking at a brisk pace, I let my mind wander.

_So I love her?_

_Yes. You do. Try to imagine if she were gone tomorrow._

_Gone where!? What the hell? She's not leaving! Fuck if I'd allow that. She's not going anywhere but right here, and hopefully she'll be at my place more often than not._

_See what I mean?_

_No, seriously. Why would she be going somewhere?_

_She's not, idiot. That was just a test, and you blew it. You're completely in love with her._

_How can this be? When did that happen?_

My mind spun as I tried to count back in my head. I had to figure out what day we met.

_When was that appointment with Carlisle?_

_You had an appointment on the 19__th__ of September. Today is the 28__th__. You've only known her for ten days. You made her your girlfriend after only eight days. Remember? The two of you created the concept of MBC on the first meet - that wasn't even a date, and you both decided to sexually experiment with each other after knowing one another for around four hours._

_Are we fucking nuts? Who does that?_

_The two of you do, apparently. And yes, you are fucking nuts – I've been trying to tell you that for years._

_The inertia of it all. Did I even have a choice? I saw her, and I was spellbound. Shit, it was like I was struck by lightning. And then she spoke to me, and I became her willing captive. Can a person even fall in love that fast?_

_Who cares about other people? We're talking about you. Is it possible you've fallen in love in ten days?_

_Never happened before but then there's never been a person like Bella in my life. She's so... different, so unlike anyone I've ever met. Maybe I should call Emmett. When did he know he was in love? Did he freak out or take things in stride? _

_Emmett would only encourage you to figure this out on your own. He might ask you a few questions, but ultimately – this is your discovery. He'll also find limitless glee in torturing you with juvenile playground love-taunts. _

_Yeah, don't speak to Emmett until I've got my brain on straight._

Adjusting the treadmill up to level seven, I transitioned into a jog.

_So do I tell her? Is this something she wants? Fuck. How do I tell her, and what if she freaks out? What if this is way too soon? What if she can't say it back and I'm standing there like a complete idiot?_

_You did leave her a hint, but it might have gone unnoticed._

_A hint? What hint?_

_You signed her last gift, 'Love Edward'._

_Yes, of course, but, many people use that as a standard closure in common correspondence._

_Sure, Edward, sure. Men sign notes 'Love' all the time on fancy stationary with thoughtful gifts. Men buy women custom-selected flowers and extremely expensive art. Men bare their souls about sexual dysfunction with just any woman._

_She doesn't know about the art, and doesn't need to know. I'm not required to tell her it's not a print._

_You really think a lie of omission is the best bet? You should tell her. Why didn't you get her a print? That's clearly what she expected. Why the grand, expensive gesture? Don't you think she should find out that you wired a check for $94,000.00? What if someone else figures it out, somewhere down the road? The more time that passes without telling her the worse it will be._

_It wasn't supposed to be a grand, expensive gesture. It just felt wrong getting her a copy of something so beautiful. It felt as though I was saying, 'I could have gotten you the real thing, but I decided to settle for a $39.99 fake'._

_She doesn't care about that materialistic bullshit. She would have been just as happy with a print. She'll probably freak out at the reality of its monetary value. _

_I can't explain why I did what I did. Maybe it's because I see us together longer than right now. Maybe I want that watercolor to hang in our home someday._

_Maybe?_

_Okay, so that's exactly what I want. And I don't want to tell our future children that I bought their mother a print when I had the means a thousand times over to get her the real thing. Shit, this would make an interesting story to tell our grandchildren someday._

_Whoa, whoa, whoa, Edward! When did you tell her you love her; date her for a set amount of time; propose to her; marry her; buy a house; get her with child, and grow old with her?_

_It was __**future**__ children and I did say __**someday**__, dammit!_

_So you chose to take a huge risk and buy her an inappropriately expensive gift so that you could tell some lame story to your future progeny? What the hell is wrong with you? Christ, Edward. You don't even know if she believes in all that stuff. How well do you really know her? _

_I know a lot, okay? But, that's a valid point. We do need to talk about the speed and the momentum of things developing between us. Do we really, consciously, want to move forward at our current pace? Are we allowing our hormones to guide our decisions?_

_What decisions have you two made lately?_

_Just the girlfriend status thing on Saturday. Hmm, I don't necessarily want to slow things down with her; I just want the two of us to make decisions about the timing of our steps together. It's like we're on some kind of a course being propelled by this unseen force. We have the ability to decide where we're going. Instead we've been moving ahead without exploring the velocity of things. _

_What's with all the physics terms? Inertia, momentum, velocity – you're obsessed with bodies in motion._

_No, I'm not. I just feel a little out of control because I've found the girl I want for the rest of my life. This is no longer some project or experiment. These feelings are real. _

_Shit, now you're talking about feelings, Edward. You should go pick out a pink bra because you just became a chick._

_I'm ignoring you. We're moving into something new here. Regardless of how many hours we've spent together, ten days is still only ten days. She needs to know how serious I am. Maybe not the 'L' word yet, but she needs to know that I'm not looking for someone. I've found my someone._

_You're actually right for once, Edward. Talk to her. Think about how new this is to her. Consider the uncharted territory you're in as well. That's a discussion to have with her. You can't decide the pacing by yourself._

_Well, not tonight, but soon. Tonight she determines what we try or don't try._

_Feel better?_

_Marginally, yes._

I picked up my MP3 player out of the cup holder where I'd left it the last time. I placed the ear-buds in and turned it on. The shuffle feature was still set from my previous workout. I powered up the treadmill to thirteen so that I could run full-out for the last twenty minutes. A grin spread across my face when I heard the opening lyrics of 'Let Love In' by the Goo Goo Dolls. Feeling better, I ran until sweat was streaming down my shins.

8:55PM

Sunday Evening

_Fuck me, did that really just happen?_

_Yes, it did. She looks like she just placed first in a World Championship trial for hand jobs. She's so elated. Look at that smile on her face. Too fucking cute._

I grabbed a few tissues, adjusting things and cleaning up. Panting, trying to catch my breath, I lay back on the bedspread, the world still spinning erratically on its axis. Everything still felt good. My blood was humming in my veins, dick still throbbing slightly in the aftermath, balls spent and replete.

_Fucking-A. Her hand, her small, cool fingers. Shit, that was…, beyond intense. I thought I was going to lose it the minute she started moving her hand. Who knew she would take to that like it was second nature? Parts of it were more torture than pleasure, but I don't fucking care. My girl was actually touching me and loving it. _

_I didn't last very long in any of the build-ups. That really sucks. I wish I had more control._

_Keep trying. You'll get there. Do it for Bella._

_She's the one that actually matters. Isn't that rich? I had feelings for Jessica. Okay, so maybe those feelings were more infatuation than affection; I didn't see her true colors until it was too late – I was already involved further than I should have been. But, back to Bella. I really want things to work with her, but she is hell on my self-control. I can usually hold it together longer than that when it's just me. But damn, she smells so good, and her skin is like the finest ivory, and then she looks up at me with those brown eyes, and I lose it. Even with my eyes closed, I imagine what she's doing, and then lose it._

_No, Edward. You're hell on your self-control. Two years of nothing but jerking off has made you an ejaculation machine. All it takes is a couple of strokes and you go off like a rocket._

_Well, there's been nothing I could do about it for the longest time. At least with Bella, we can actually do something. She doesn't seem to mind the extra effort involved._

_Doesn't mind? She looked like the cat that caught the canary. She fucking loved that._

_Practice makes perfect right? I'll just have to let her know that we've got to lengthen my time before we ever attempt anything more involved._

_Why was that so much better than anything else? Better than sex with any other woman, and it wasn't even full sex. Shit. How am I going to hold it together when we're actually having sex?_

My mind wandered back to her hands on me, her loving eyes listening to me as I gave her instructions. She didn't flinch, didn't hesitate.

_She was even pressing in tighter on the down stroke. And then she spoke to me. She fucking told me she wanted me inside of her. I can't remember ever coming so hard. God, she's so fucking amazing. What did I ever do to deserve her?_

My breathing was returning to normal, and I had the need to hold her in my arms. "Come here," I requested. She rolled toward me, and I pulled her body the last few inches. I buried my face in her chest, inhaling the rich fragrance of her skin.

_She likes your sex face. She thinks doing that is hot. Hot Bella. Breasts. Inside her, mmm Bella. I want to be inside you, too._

I exhaled and pulled her closer. I pressed my lips against the comforting flesh in front of me, feeling a little drowsy. I wondered if I'd be able to fall asleep like this and actually stay asleep through the night. What she had just given me was extraordinary, and for once, I felt nearly sated. I felt my eyes drift closed as I relaxed against her some more, rubbing my cheek against her resilient curves.

_Did she just moan?_

BPOV

9:00 PM

I was willing Edward to sleep, but thinking about how his head lay across my chest, and how his cheeks rubbed against my nipples at the same time turned out to be a mistake because my body clenched in response, and I snapped my teeth together to keep from moaning. A gust of air expelled from my lungs and he heard it. His head shifted minutely, lightly scraping over the hardened bud which elicited another suppressed moan I was barely able to stop.

He pulled back a little bit. He looked up at me, his green eyes smoldering like before. Looking back down, his eyes seemed to be taking stock of the place he'd been using as a pillow, realizing the changes in my body. Coming down from his high had made him aware of my state of need. His agile fingers went to the upper edge of my pajama top. He pulled the first button out of the placket before running down to the second button. I closed my eyes in anticipation when he had the third and fourth buttons open as well.

Edward peeled back each side of my pajama top like I was a present. I looked down at him. His eyes were glued to my chest as he reached over to cup my bottom in his hands and pull me into his newly restored hardness which nudged my belly. He nuzzled my nipple with his nose before opening his lips and sucking its entirety into his hot mouth. My fingers dug into his skin, and my head fell back.

"Holy Christ, Edward…I…uh, I thought you were dozing off, going to…to sleep." He sucked harder, pulling more of my breast into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing with the effort. A broken moan spilled from my throat, and I couldn't stop myself from shifting my center closer to his body. He pulled up for a moment to speak. I lifted my head to look at him.

"Don't want to sleep, not now. I have a hot, aroused woman in my arms. I'd have to be an idiot to want to sleep."

_When did I wrap my arms and legs around him? Who cares? Tighter, Bella – hold him tighter._

"Sleep is overrated, anyhow," he continued, his hot breath wafting around my pouting bud. He did something to my legs, altering their grip around his waist. And then he turned, shifting his weight onto his back, and I found myself straddling him, my knees pressed close to his torso and my wet heat evident against his stomach. I couldn't restrain the blush that spread over my face. I didn't know if it was the position, my bare chest, or the damp furnace between my thighs which instigated the blush.

"Bella," he intoned softly. "Why are you embarrassed, love?"

"Um, which reason do you want?" I hedged while keeping my eyes on his collarbone and bracing my hands on his chest. He sat up, using one arm to hold me and the other arm to brace his weight. He removed his hand from my back and then tilted my chin so that our eyes were locked.

He pressed his lips together, trying valiantly not to smile. "You have more than one reason?"

"Well, I'm bare-chested, and I'm on top of you. I know that we've done parts of this before, but I'm not as mindless as I was last time. So I guess I have the wherewithal to blush. That, and I'm positive that you can feel me. I'm drenched. I'm a mess." I pressed a hand over an eye, wishing I could hide.

"Yes, but that's a good thing. You're a drenched mess _for me._ We gentlemen architect cowboys like it when we get our womenfolk all riled up."

"Womenfolk?" I sputtered, laughing, forgetting my embarrassment. "Isn't that plural? Shouldn't you say 'woman'?"

His hands moved to wrap around my hips; his fingers were tensing and relaxing, and moving up and down.

"Well, I included myself in a vast group of men; so naturally when referring to mankind, I must also refer to the ladies."

His hands stilled, gripped, and lifted. I found myself perfectly lined up with his masculine firmness. He closed his eyes and grunted quietly. I pressed my lips together, smothering a moan. My hands were still firmly pressed onto his torso. I couldn't stop them from smoothing up and down his skin.

_Holy shit, I can feel him. He's hot and hard and, fuck - he feels good. There's only two thin pieces of fabric separating us._

_Don't move your hips, Bella. Don't grind on him like he's an electric pony._

_Why the hell not? _

_I don't know. Just don't._

I remembered to breathe and a stilted sigh ruffled past my mouth. I concentrated on using my lungs for a moment or two. He went back to kissing me. His lips shaped mine, and I lost myself in his kiss. Arms stroking up and down my back, one hand wound itself into the hair at the nape of my neck, his tongue took possession of mine, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding on. I fell forward, his hands no longer holding my lower body in place. The shift felt marvelous, his hardened length rubbed against my drenched center. So I leaned back a little, shifting my hip downward, my arms cupping around his shoulders for balance. His lips followed mine until we broke apart, gasping and looking at each other. He scooted back against the headboard, taking me with him, and he dove back into the kiss, his hands free to move back to my breasts, palming and cupping them, thumbs flicking at the hardened peaks.

"Mmmmm," I moaned into his mouth. My lower body was flexing and moving on him unashamedly now.

_Okay, grind on him. Who the hell cares? Pinch it a little, God, yes, that's fucking good. _

He stiffened at the shifting of my hips, and his hands left my breasts to latch onto my waist, ceasing all movements. He seemed to be searching for his control, and I realized that seeking my own pleasure had an affect on him.

_That was stupid, Bella. Did you forget about this little problem?_

Despite the near overwhelming urge to move, I held myself as still as possible. He closed his eyes for a second and dipped his face down to my neck, breathing slowly for a moment. Finally, he made a request that surprised me.

"Moan for me again, Bella. I love to hear every sound you make. You have no idea what that does to me," he urged. His head dipped down to suck on a nipple again. The pleasured sound that ripped from my throat was raspy and then turned guttural at the end.

"Remind me why I'm still clothed, Edward?" I panted out, sounding frustrated. My body clenched in response to his determined sucking.

"We're not going to have sex, Bella," he returned, sounding out of breath, but still in control.

"That wasn't what I asked," I muttered in a low, grumbling tone of voice.

"Is Bob the Builder cramping your style?" He didn't sound like he was laughing, exactly. He sounded more like there was a smile in his voice.

"Bob needs to go build something, and get the hell out of my way."

"I believe I can dispense with Bob; I am, after all, the only man in your life," he replied, shifting me back down to the bed, his arm behind my neck, helping me to settle gently.

_Hmm... I really like the sound of that... shit, where did that thought come from?_

I didn't have time to pursue the fleeting thought. My pajama top was still on, merely unbuttoned, so he took the time to free my arms from the sleeves and deposit the offending garment on the floor.

"Pants, right?" he confirmed before moving his fingertips to the waistband.

"Pants off," I returned firmly. He slid them off slowly, gathering the fabric in his hands and freeing my feet, his eyes locked on mine the entire time. The pants landed on the floor with a whoosh.

"There's a bunch of stuff we need to discuss, Bella," he began before cupping his hand around my heat. My body clenched again, merely at his proximity to where I wanted him.

"Stuff?" I asked shakily, tilting my hips up to greet his hand. His middle finger slipped past my curls and delved inside the slick warmth. He joined another finger to rub back and forth. Words escaped me at that point. My head involuntarily fell back as I allowed my mind to focus on his hand while he gently rubbed in circles around my swollen pearl. Everything tightened. My hips flexed up, seeking. He went back to rubbing up and down, increasing the pressure of his fingers.

_Fucking magical fingers. Now, inside. Up and down is good, too, I guess. No, inside! Sheesh, that's good, now inside. Dammit!_

He chuckled and slowly, teasingly inserted two fingers right where I wanted them. I must have said the last part out loud. Before I knew it, his fingers were pulling back out slowly.

_No, no no! Put those back! Where the hell do you think you're going?_

His fingers returned with firm but gentle force. My inner thighs snapped up around his hand, pleased to finally get some pressure. I slowly lowered them, open, to the bed, realizing that trapping his hand was probably not the best scenario. He lowered his lips back down to my breast and hooked his fingers inside me to gently rub against the sensitive nerves, hitting the pleasure points exactly. I felt one of those phantom clenches again. His thumb went wandering up to circle wetly around my now throbbing clitoris. His head was occupied as well. He used his teeth, gently abrading my rigid bud while his fingers continued to tease me with gliding retreats and confident thrusts, rubbing inside before retreating again.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. He's busting out the triple-threat stuff. If he rubs his fingers in that spot again, I'm gonna... Fuck. I don't want this to end! Not yet. Fuck this feels too good._

"Oh My God, Edward! Right there, yes, yes! Do it again. Fuck. Don't stop. Don't stop."

He shifted the heel of his palm, and thrust his fingers in and out, still curving them into that spot. He switched to the other breast and sucked, hard. My hands had gripped around his forearm again, though I didn't realize it. I moved a hand to press my fingers into his hair and hold his head to my chest. Hips bucking up to meet another thrust of his fingers, I moaned again, loudly.

He released my nipple, shifting position, moving down in the bed, ostensibly to focus both hands on his efforts, and knelt down between my legs. My hands slid to the bedspread, gripping tightly. His left hand pressed a finger over my clit, and then deliberately circled around it. His two right fingers hooked up inside me again and began to move back and forth, increasing in pace. His left hand pinched my clit as his two fingers rubbed. I felt myself tighten around his fingers and then release. He rubbed some more in both places, but then stilled his fingers and curled them up against a spot deep inside, rubbing in small circles.

I tightened again, gasping and moaning – my hips thrashing wildly at this point. He dipped down his head, opening his mouth, and the very tip of his hot tongue touched the sensitive peak of my clit. I gasped, my eyes snapping open in surprise. His head shot up, a crooked smile appeared on his face, and our eyes locked for a moment, his asking silent permission, mine consenting though I knew not why, before he lowered his head again and repeated his action. He gently flicked his tongue over my clit again and again, and my mouth flew open, curse words spewing as I came.

"Holy shit, I'm going to…Fuck, that's good!" I was groaning and panting as another wave hit. Blinding heat spread up and down my body. Stars formed behind my now tightly closed eyes and my hips were still flexing as pulse after pulse of pleasure rolled out in waves. Replacing his tongue with his finger, he continued moving his hands in concert to my moans. I was incoherent, sounds ripping from my lips in time with the pressure building inside of me. My body tightened around his fingers rhythmically until one last out-of-time clench repeated the motif of ecstasy against his hand. Fireworks exploded, the wave of imminent release grew to tsunami proportions and broke over me. My hips bucked off the bed, the heels of my feet dug into the sheets but found no purchase, and I was thrashing against his magical fingers. A primal scream ripped itself loose and burst through my lips, carrying his name.

"UNNGGHHH, EDWAAARD..."

Chest heaving up and down, I panted, trying to catch my breath. I slowly came down from the endorphin-induced high of my orgasm. He slowly removed his hands, causing another clench on the way out.

_So intense, how does he wring all of that out of me? It's like he knows how to draw that out. And his tongue? Fuck me; that was unbelievably good._

_I wonder if I could go again._

_Nah, Bella. That's just not possible._

_No, really. I could swear my clit is still swollen._

_He said you needed to talk about stuff. Don't be greedy._

_Oh yeah._

"I'm going to go wash up and get a wet cloth for you," he stated before pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"Mmmmm," was my response.

_Still not coherent, Bella?_

_Fuck off. I'm enjoying this._

A shaft of light made its way into the room when he flipped on the light switch. I heard water running in the bathroom, and the door closed.

_He's been in there for a bit. I wonder what he's doing._

He returned a few minutes later, and I felt the bed dip as he sat near me.

"Bella?" he questioned softly. "I'm going to clean you a little, love. You'll sleep easier if you're not all…"

"Okay," I replied trustingly. I turned toward him, allowing him access to my body. He was very gentle and quick, cleansing away any lingering traces of our session. The bed moved again as he got up to put the towel in the bathroom. His footsteps returned, and I heard the closet door slide open. He rummaged around, put something on, and came back to the bed.

"Arms up," he prompted upon returning. I sat up, bracing my arms on the bed, not bothering to lift them until I could support myself. I yawned after a moment and put my arms in the air like a kid. A clean t-shirt floated over my shoulders, and he tugged until my face popped free. He was very solicitous of my hair before settling me against his now clothed chest. The t-shirt was huge, and I tugged on it until it covered my butt. I scooted closer. His lower legs were still bare.

_Is he still naked? For that matter, is he hard?_

We hadn't turned on the bedside light and it was dark in the room. I allowed my hand to drift over his back, sliding down to his waist. My fingers met the cloth of his boxer briefs. Curious, my hand slid around to his front, finding his flesh resting, pulsing but flaccid.

_What happened to Mr. Friendly? Where the hell did he go?_

"Edward, what did you do? What the hell happened to your erection? That was mine, dammit."

"I took care of it, Bella, just rest."

_You took care of it? Why the hell did you do that? How exactly did you kill it in a matter of minutes without making a sound?_

"You took care of it? I don't understand. How did you manage to…and without even a sound…what did you do?" Frustrated with being unable to see his face, I reached over to turn on the lamp by the bed.

"I'm getting better at using the imagery. I went to the bathroom, because I had to. And then I just washed my hands and imagined Jerry Stiller from a couple episodes of 'Seinfeld'. A few minutes of him hollering and yelling, and it was gone."

"Wow, Edward," I responded, genuinely impressed with his mind over matter approach.  
"That's very proficient of you. Half of me is impressed with your increasing mental control, and the other half is slightly pissed off," I admitted candidly.

"Pissed off? At what? I see it as preventing you from getting frustrated with my insulting physique," he finished, sounding thoroughly annoyed with what was rapidly becoming my favorite body part.

_Insulting? How could he possibly think his hard-on could ever be insulting to me? Who made him think this way?_

"Edward, who said your arousal is insulting? Was it an ex-girlfriend?" I questioned, grabbing a pillow to place in my lap.

"I'd rather not spoil the evening with reminiscing about the ghosts of girlfriends past. I'll explain, though," he said with a pained look in his eyes. He looked down worrying the edge of the pillowcase on which I was resting my arms. "Think about it, Bella. It takes some effort to bring a person to orgasm whether it's sex or hands or mouth or whatever. Did your hand get tired at all?" he asked, looking up.

"Well, yeah, but only because I'm not used to it. I just ignored it; you came minutes later," I explained.

"Well imagine going to all that effort only for my brainless wonder down below to spring right back up moments later. To Jessica, it was offensive. I believe she did use the word 'insulting'. I don't ever want you think that I'm not satisfied with you, Bella. You did such a great job. I just wanted to hold you and feel normal for a few minutes, that's all." His voice had a plaintive quality to it at the end.

"I get your need to feel normal, Edward, I really do. Just consider that I don't feel anything like what Jessica felt. I'm not insulted or annoyed or irritated at all. I'm possessive. I feel like that erection was mine and you took it away. It's like I just got refused entry to the candy store by the confectioner. You know how to make the most wonderful stuff and you just willed it away with your mind," I explained, feeling glum.

He actually looked rather surprised, puzzled at my reaction. "I just wanted to hold you Bella, and not have this _thing_ poking you in the stomach," he returned derisively, pointing at the area hidden behind the black cotton fabric.

"I happen to be rather fond of that _thing,_ as you call it. In fact, I take offense at your tone when referring to my new acquaintance." I thought rapidly about what to say next.

He huffed something about my use of the word 'acquaintance', but didn't bother to say it loud enough to make it a real issue.

_How do I deal with this without shaming him? Deal with it like punching a clock, Bella. Then he doesn't have to guess._

"I've come up with a new rule, Edward. It's mine as long as it's not infringing on my sleep time. If it's past eleven, and it's getting too late for me to function in the morning, then it's all yours. If it's hard for me…that's _me_, _not you, dammit_, then it's mine. M-I-N-E."

"Yours, huh?" he chuckled, looking down at his newly turgid flesh. It wasn't fully erect yet – more like half mast. I was rather pleased to see that it was coming back to life.

"Yes. Mine. It's only after ten. I still have quite a bit of time before the candy store closes for the night. Scoot your butt over here, again. Can you handle round two?" I asked, feeling a little bold and wondering where it came from.

"I can if you can," he said with a small grin. "But there's actually some stuff we need to talk about. Far be it from me to get in the way of your… candy. I don't want to intrude on this new relationship you've begun with my disobedient friend here."

He sighed and looked at the ceiling his lips pursed. "Would it be too much of an imposition if we talked for a little bit? You're welcome to objectify me as a sex-toy as much as you want, I rather like it. I just don't want us to be only about sex."

"Talking actually makes sense. Damn, I hate it when you're right. And you're not a sex object; I just really enjoyed that," I admitted sheepishly. "I have to ask you a few questions, though."

"I'm an open book. Ask away," he replied while getting comfy against the headboard. I pulled away to gather my thoughts and brace myself for what might be an honest response. I sat with my legs folded focusing on a dry cuticle around my nail.

"This is going to be awkward," I managed. "But I need your evaluation of how that went. Did I do it right? Was there anything I should have done that I didn't do?"

"You were wonderful, Bella. I have no complaints." He looked up at my still expectant face. "Do you want an actual critique?" he asked, his brows raised. "Like, I should say a positive comment and find something that could be improved?"

"Yes, exactly that," I responded, glad that he understood.

"This is tricky, because I think you did beautifully for a first time with an unfamiliar… acquaintance," he said, grinning.

_So it's perfectly fine to use 'acquaintance' now? Whatever, Edward. You can adopt all the sayings that you want, but eventually I'm going to copyright them and charge royalty fees in the form of neck kisses._

"But, if you're forcing me to find a positive and negative thing to say, I would have to praise your attentiveness, your verbal encouragement – very hot, by the way - and your grip was actually perfect. For a pointer for next time, I would encourage you to use both hands, actually. You don't have to limit yourself to one area, either."

He crossed his arms above his head, and revealed the next part with devilish bemusement. "I had not intended to reveal those two little tips to you, Bella. I don't want to overwhelm you with too much information at once. However, you tricked it out of me, you witchy woman." He grinned and gave me a wink. His teasing expression sent me into a blush for some mysterious reason. At seeing the heat spreading over my cheeks he leaned forward and placed a hand on my knee, saying, "Don't stress about it Bella. You are doing such a good job, and I'll keep telling you what I like. Now, get over here. You're too far away for cuddling."

I obediently ditched my sitting position in favor of my spot against his neck. "We actually accomplished a lot. We had sexual contact that didn't end in some kind of fight. Fights after sex are usually standard for me," he said with a painful grimace. "If my perpetual insatiability wasn't a bone of contention, no pun intended… then finishing too soon made me so angry with myself that I wasn't the best person to be around. I would stress out so much, willing my body to just do what I asked of it, for once. The more anxiety built up, the less I had control of the situation. After the last embarrassing scene with Tanya, I just said, 'Screw it', and made myself less available, much less available."

_I'll have to ask him more about his ex-girlfriends who felt it was okay to yell at him after sex. Even I know that's a bad idea. Stupid Barbies, you have to find out what's wrong instead of just reacting. He said he didn't want to drag up ghosts of the past. I'll have to let him reveal that as he's ready. I wonder if he pushed them away on purpose, or if they were just lacking any form of insight or empathy. Any person with even a grain of sense can see that he wants to get things right, but struggles with his disobedient body._

"We will talk about this some more, but like you said, it doesn't have to be tonight. It's not too late to talk about the other thing," I said, yawning. I tried to shake off the fatigue. "So what was it that you wanted to discuss, Edward?"

Seconds ticked away in my head as I waited for him to say something. Another moment passed, and then another. I felt my eyelids drooping and tilted my head up. "Edward?" I asked, finally.

He expelled a breath of air and tucked one arm under his head. "I've been meaning to ask you something."

"Okay, go ahead," I returned calmly, now curious.

"It's about the artwork, the O'Keeffe," he began slowly. "How do you feel about the frame?"

_How do I feel about the frame? I like it I guess – what an odd question! The frame and I are good friends. What the fuck? We weren't even speaking about that before. We were talking about what's mine before eleven pm. He changed the subject! Wait, why?_

I scrambled to answer rationally. "I like the frame. It looks substantial and it has classic lines. But I doubt you wanted my opinion on geometric angles and hardwood, Edward."

"Do you even like walnut?" He tilted his head down at me and I shrugged a shoulder, not knowing how to answer. "I tried to get the artisan to match the framed poetry you have in your bedroom. I had only my description, though. Can you let me know if you ever intend to have it reframed?" he posed the question slowly, almost hesitantly.

I leaned up from his chest and scooted away, feeling oddly awake now. His arm reached toward me, but I scooted a little more. He frowned. "Edward, please tell me what all this is about," I demanded with a sinking feeling. I folded my legs beneath me.

_I knew there was something weird about that frame. It was too well done for a simple print. Fucking Beelzebub on a toast point! Tell me that's not a real O'Keeffe watercolor._

"It's not a print, Bella," he revealed with what sounded like trepidation in his voice. His fingers were fiddling against the bedspread as though he were bothered by something.

_It's not a print. It's not a print. It's a fucking real piece of probably priceless art. _

I spun into a state of slow-developing shock.

_Why on earth would he do something like this? Is he trying to give me some kind of weird head-trip? Is this more 'impress her' nonsense? For fuck's sake, Bella! Who buys a person something with that big of a price tag after less than a month? I know he has oodles of cash he doesn't seem to use, but this is bizarre._

My eyes got really wide and I sat unmoving, staring at the wall. I blinked slowly, several times. He sat up, gripping me by the shoulders, asking me to share my thoughts, but I was held in thrall to the worst possible idea I could imagine. I began to reject the idea before it could even come to fruition.

_No, no, no, he wouldn't do something so slimy. He couldn't possibly be thinking like that. It's simply not in him, and telling him where your mind just went would hurt him beyond measure. He's not buying you, Bella. Edward is not some heartless bastard who buys whatever he wants. Just because your relationship is becoming more sexual by the minute does not mean this is quid pro quo._

"Bella! Bella, you're scaring me. Please tell me what's wrong. I'll answer any question that you have with honesty, I swear. Just please tell me what is going on in your head." There was a halting desperation to his voice that snapped me out of my daze. I turned to look at him, my eyes filled with fearful tears.

"Can you tell me your thought process as you made that purchase, Edward?" A tear that was beyond my control spilled over the rim of my eyelid and traced a slow path down my cheek. He reached over to capture the tear on his fingertip, and pressed his lips softly to my forehead. His arms cupped around my shoulders, clearly wanting me back in his arms. I resisted for a moment, wanting to put some distance between us, but he wouldn't have it. I relented and he settled back against a pillow, my head in its spot in the crook of his neck.

"My first thought about getting you a framed flower was to surprise you, and to carry on the original theme of getting you flowers," he started out slowly, but was picking up speed as he filed back into his memory. "I began researching different prints online. I found one that seemed to fit. I wanted to pick something with lasting significance, not something weak and flimsy in a plastic frame that had been lacquered gold, or black, or any other color for that matter. I wanted a real frame. Prints don't come in real frames, Bella. They arrive rolled up in plastic, or pre-framed in something that will break in one year."

He took a deep breath, my head moving a little as his chest expanded.

"The more I looked at the web page for the Honolulu Academy of Art, the more I wanted to get you something genuine – something lasting, something you would still want after thirty years or so have passed."

_Thirty years? He has known me less than one-twelfth of a year and he wants to get me something to remain beautiful and relevant until I'm in my fifties? He still wants to know me when I'm all wrinkled?_

_Eternal beauty, Bella. He meant what he said in that floral descriptor. Shame on you for thinking something so sordid about him! What is wrong with you?_

"I know it's a bit presumptuous to think I could still occupy a place in your mind, in your life, after all that time, but I couldn't help myself. I feel…" he trailed off, but began again, a new, fierce determination in his voice. "I feel as though I'm no longer searching to find the right person. I think you could very easily be that person, Bella. I don't want to say too much, because we've only known each other less than two weeks. I surely don't want to scare you away. Just know that this sexually obsessed man has eyes that don't wander anymore. I only want you, Bella. I don't see the need to look elsewhere."

_Wow, that was as close to a declaration of love as a person can get without actually saying it. He's done? I'm it? Little old me? Shit, he's so wonderful; I hope I don't let him down._

_You just have to love him back, Bella. You do realize you're already there? All you have to do at this point is give yourself permission to feel what you feel. Stop denying what's true, Bella._

_Loving people doesn't always work out so well for me. People that I love either betray me or die. Except for maybe Alice – she would never betray my trust, and she's not going anywhere._

_Take a chance Bella, live a little; love a little – you might find yourself becoming a whole person. _

_He's already made me whole again. He brought me back to life. I can't imagine wanting to be in a world where he's not present. I can't imagine being happier than I am with him. I can't. I'm in love with him._

I reached out to hug him more firmly. There was a fine tremor running through my body as I felt like the shakes were coming on. "Bella? You're trembling. Are you okay? Are you cold? I could get you something if you need it…"

"It's nothing, Edward. I'm fine. It's just delayed reaction. Just hold me; keep talking. I'll be fine in a minute," I lied easily, knowing the trembling was from my realization that I was in love.

So far, none of what he was telling me was gruesome at all. He kissed my cheek and held me just as securely. He seemed to gather courage from the pressure of my arms.

"I'm getting off track," he redirected, and a breath I didn't realize I was holding, escaped through my lips. "There was a part of me that was curious to see if I could get you an O'Keeffe watercolor, and then it became a challenge. Carlisle got me in touch with someone at Sotheby's. I think he used my last name because the specialist returned my call within minutes. I must have lucked-out because they already had several pieces that were in wait for the next auction. He described the inventory; I took a few minutes to look at the images online; I made an appropriate offer, and he contacted the seller. Apparently, the seller was eager for the deal to be finalized. After all was said and done, I had the painting couriered to me," he finished the last part quickly.

"It didn't even go to auction?" I asked, confused.

"No. The seller can add conditions when he or she places something as pending for auction. They can option the piece as available for immediate sale, or mark it for auction only. Sotheby's is very accommodating to their sellers and buyers. They make a commission on every sale. It's in their best interest to link sellers and buyers as quickly as possible. Unless, an inappropriate offer is made. In that case you get a very polite put-down. If your offer is really offensive, they hang up on you."

"What was your offer, Edward?"

"It's just going to make you more upset, Bella. Wouldn't you rather just know that it's a very nice piece of art?"

"Nice, Edward? Nice?" I sneered, enraged now, getting up from the bed quickly to pace the floor in front of it and raising my hand to push my hair off my forehead. This in turn raised the bottom hem of the shirt I was wearing, but I was too agitated to care. "Nice is a piece of apple pie, or a new deck of playing cards. Either of which might coax me into a _nice_ smile. A six figure piece of art is not nice. It's a fucking head-trip, and I'm not trying to be insulting. I just don't deal in numbers the same way that you do. Please tell me it's not six figures."

I turned to him, pleading with my eyes swimming in unshed tears, and rubbed my fingers into my temples, hoping he could assure me that the number was merely obscene, and not a shit-faced sideways head-fuck.

"It's not six figures," he said dutifully, and I peered at him skeptically, my thumbs now pressing against the dull ache in my head.

_Is he humoring me, or is he being honest? He's not smiling. He looks serious. Do you really need to know an exact number? It's just going to drive you bat-shit crazy._

"Do I need some kind of alarm system now?" I wondered out loud. I stood in the doorway to his bathroom, facing him. The distance between us had grown as we discussed money, not only literally, but also emotionally – this was the least romantic subject on the planet, in my opinion.

"That would be best, actually. Can you come back here, please?" His eyes were pleading, and I saw a flash of an emotion cross his features. It was quickly gone before I could identify it. I slowly shook my head, looking down.

"Not because someone would be after that painting, but because it would give you peace of mind when you or both of us leave your apartment," he stated simply. "You also don't have to tell anyone that it's real. The natural assumption of most will be that it's a print. What did Alice assume? Wasn't she there when you unveiled it?"

He did have a point there. "She and I both assumed it was a print, but I knew something was up because the frame was too elegant. I had thoughts that it was custom work almost from the beginning. So what's the deal with the frame? You wouldn't want me to reframe it? I have no intention of doing that. The tone of the stain actually compliments the artwork and works with the rest of the frames in my apartment. I'd have to be a half-wit to have it reframed." I snorted at the idea of tearing apart that wonderfully made frame.

"Copies of the provenance and sealed paperwork are safely stashed behind the cloth backing of the piece," he explained quietly. "I realized that I needed to tell you this, but I didn't know how to bring it up. When I made the purchase, I was quite pleased at finishing my little challenge for myself. Then I realized that someday you would figure out what I'd done, and my actions then seemed both extravagant and stupid. I was torn about giving it to you. In my mind, I saw that reaction you had just now. Although I don't understand it, I'm pretty sure that you were imagining some kind of worst-case situation. What was going through your head, Bella?"

"I don't think I can tell you," I managed to say, trying to hold off those same emotions from coming back inexplicably.

"You don't _think_ you can tell me?" He honed in on my choice of words, seeing a possibility of working the truth out of me.

_He needs to know what monetary extravagance does to the weak side of your psyche, Bella.  
_

_Does he really need to know that? It was a disgustingly mean assumption to make._

"Are you sure you want to know? It paints you as a villainous wretch, this far away from twirling a sinister mustache," I described, placing my thumb and forefinger an inch apart and walking slowly back to the bed. "It's really quite insulting, and it's more a reflection of the way that I view myself more so than how I see you."

"Now you _have_ to tell me. When you envisioned this sinister behavior, did you imagine it silent movie-style with tinny piano music and black script cards in between frames?" He took my hand by my fingertips, slowly pulling me back to him.

I decided to tell him rather than torture him with suspended bits of knowledge. If he was insulted or irritated with me, then I would deal with that. "You have to understand that what we just did weighed in the back of my mind," I began slowly. "I don't actually think you're the kind of person who deals in purchasing women for your own enjoyment. It just felt a little quid pro quo in context of where we were."

He actually looked as though he was in pain, and then his head fell forward into his hands. I regretted telling him immediately. He wasn't mad at me at all for my false assumption. I could see that he was heaping blame on himself yet again.

"I screwed up, Bella," he announced finally. I placed a hand on his shoulder and drew his head back up to look at me. His green eyes were full of guilt and anguish, and I felt the instant urge to comfort him, explain to him that he had done nothing wrong.

_Well, it was wrong to spend a shit-load of money, but he didn't do it for the reason you just gave him. Come on, meany-pants, make him feel better._

"No, Edward. You didn't screw up. You just allowed yourself to be a little impulsive, and that's okay. Just don't do anything that requires your checkbook for a long time. A very long time," I repeated slowly. "If you feel yourself coming up with another grand idea, wait three months or six months or talk to me first before you do anything rash. It's not that I want to kill your generous spirit or inhibit you in any way; I just don't think I'm equipped to deal with this sort of thing. At least, not yet. Not for a long time."

He wrapped his arms around my waist, pressing his cheek to my t-shirt clad stomach.

He mumbled something into my belly, his nose and mouth muffled by the fabric of my shirt. I asked him to repeat it, and he shifted his head up and asked, "Come back to bed, please?" I nodded, looking into his eyes, and reached over to tug on the bedding, revealing the sheet below. He got up so that we could slide into bed. Before turning and settling, I noticed the drape of his boxers over his resting manhood.

_No tent. He must have been distracted enough by our almost fight to lose his wood. Or something made it go down. Could be just the passage of time._

I curled into a pillow facing away from him, but reached back searching for his hand. I found his fingers and drew his arm around me. I was feeling exhausted not only from the length of the day, but the emotional roller coaster we'd been on. I couldn't even fathom trying to review all that had happened since waking up naked in his arms this morning. Before drifting into sleep, I remembered my appointment with his brother on Friday. I'd had time to check my calendar when working on my laptop earlier. I felt his arm slide under my pillow, parallel to my own arm – the one resting under my head. He moved his body closer, and ended up spooned against me. It felt nice, warm, and I slithered back a bit to close the distance between my back and his chest. He brushed my hair aside, nuzzling his nose into it and placed a kiss on the nape of my neck.

"Edward?" I mumbled, already sounding drowsy.

"Hmmm?" he responded, his breath feathering over the goose bumps springing up left and right.

"I think I need to fire your brother as my doctor and ask for another referral." I wiggled into his embrace a little more, enjoying his warmth. His hand shifted down to my hips, stilling me. He toyed with the hem of my t-shirt, paused, and then moved on to safer territory.

_Mustn't wiggle. Apparently that's as inflammatory as straddle grinding._

"Did he do something wrong?" he said, tensing for a moment.

"Not at all; it's just that he's your brother, and that's bound to get weird eventually," I explained, hoping I wasn't insulting anyone's professional integrity. "I'm going to keep that appointment on Friday and share the dreams with him. He'll get a kick out of that, right? Then when he's still laughing, I'm going to fire his ass for laughing at me. That is if I can get him to break his professional dignity again."

He relaxed and questioned, "Are you sure you want to share that with him? You will be giving him carte blanche for pussy jokes for the rest of the time that you know him, Bella. Excuse the phrasing, but that's where he'll go with that."

"I've thought of that, Edward. Your brother is a big jokester, right? If I tell him about the dreams in his office when he is Dr. E. McCarty, then he can never bring up what he knows in public, unless he wants a breach of confidentiality suit brought against him. I'll be sure to let him in on that part before I leave. Think of all the jokes that will occur to him that he won't be able to voice. It's going to drive him crazy, right? I almost think it's too mean. What do you think about it? Honestly, he's your brother. I don't want to do anything that would upset you."

"You should do it, if you can handle his ribbing. Would you actually bring a suit against him?"

"Of course not," I sputtered, giggling like a fool.

"He doesn't know that though," he finished, sounding tickled by the idea, and pressed another kiss to my neck. "I was going to suggest something about getting a new doctor, but didn't want to influence things if you wanted to keep it as is." He yawned, finally showing his own exhaustion. "You should try to get to sleep. Do you need me to set the alarm for a specific hour?"

"8AM would be perfect," I replied, my eyes beginning to feel heavy. He rolled away to set the alarm and then returned to me.

"Edward," I mumbled drowsily.

"Hmmm?" he rumbled into my neck.

"You don't have any problems with my erection time card thing, do you?" I must have been drifting off because I mentioned that, but we'd never used those words, I'd only thought about them.

"As long as I don't actually have to punch a clock, you can have anything you want, Bella." He chuckled, his breath warming my neck and we settled into a rhythm of breathing deeply while spooning each other. I felt the softest of kisses against my temple before slowly relaxing into sleep. He was right against me, and nothing was poking me in the butt. As I drifted off, I briefly wondered, hoped even, that he would be able to sleep next to me through the night. I would view that as a victory of sorts – for him and me both.

**A/N: Is it silly that I'm looking forward to a scene I've yet to write? I can't wait for Emmett to get a little payback for all the teasing he's done to Edward. I think Bella is just the one to give him some of his own medicine.**

**Until we meet again, friends. Review if you've got something to say :--)**


	17. Confessions

**A/N: ****So here you have the chapter where Bella uses Emmett's teasing nature against him. We're also gearing up for karaoke night in the next chapter.**

**This chapter makes a reference to a popular motivational speaker named Anthony Robbins. If you are unfamiliar with his work, I've included a You Tube clip of him speaking on my profile to give you a general idea of his particular brand of mind over matter. He receives obscene amounts of money to speak and coach – I can't see why… I see him as a psycho-babbling, pyramid scheme swindler.**

**Phone Lemon: Dead Ahead!**

From Chapter 16:

"I think I need to fire your brother as my doctor and ask for another referral." I wiggled into his embrace a little more, enjoying his warmth. His hand shifted down to my hips, stilling me. He toyed with the hem of my t-shirt, paused, and then moved on to safer territory.

_Mustn't wiggle. Apparently that's as inflammatory as straddle grinding._

"Did he do something wrong?" he asked, tensing for a moment.

"Not at all; it's just that he's your brother, and that's bound to get weird eventually," I explained, hoping I wasn't insulting anyone's professional integrity.

Chapter 17:

**Confessions**

A noun

A 14th century Middle English word

from Anglo-French _confesser _and

from the Latin _confessus_ and _fateri_ – to confess

and _fari_- to speak

A disclosure of one's faults in the sacrament of reconciliation; a written or oral acknowledgement of guilt by a party under accusation;

a formal statement of religious belief

Wednesday

EPOV

It was after nine at night when I finally got a chance to phone Bella. We mutually agreed to postpone our Wednesday pizza date because midterms were scheduled for this week, and we both knew that trying to study together would most likely end with both of us a sweaty yet sated mess on the couch, or the kitchen counter, or her bed. It would have been delicious fun, but would wreak havoc with our GPAs.

I was done studying, or I had at least decided that I couldn't cram any more building fundamentals or historical architectural nuances into my head. What was in my mind would have to stay put until the two midterm exams that I had to take tomorrow.

"Hello?" I heard her sweet voice answer the phone. It sounded as though there was a dull background noise, a whooshing sound of some sort.

_Is that water? Maybe she's washing her face before going to bed._

"Hey, Snuggle Bug. Did you finish studying for your tests tomorrow?" I questioned, hearing the spray of water abruptly stop. There was a squeaking noise as the tap was turned off. I heard what sounded like the snap of an elastic strap.

_Did she just take off her bra? What did I interrupt?_

I pressed the phone closer to my ear to pick up every stray sound, and immediately felt like a phone pervert.

_You really should allow her privacy Edward. Don't be a creep._

"Hold on a second, okay?" There was some low fumbling and rustling sounds before she came back on the line. "I did finish studying. I can't fit anymore into my brain's hard drive, or the system will crash from too much data."

"I know exactly what you mean. Did I interrupt you? I can wish you goodnight or call you back, later," I offered politely, hoping she would choose to stay on the line instead.

_Please say no. Please say no._

"No! I was going to take a shower, but I decided to do that later, after I talk to you."

"I'm very glad you chose me over hot water. That makes me feel like one of the essentials in your life, Bella."

"You're definitely essential, Edward. I consider you to be right up there with sunlight and oxygen." Her voice dipped down lower than usual, soft and seductive.

_Damn, that's hot. Hot shower, with Bella. Water, naked, good. Hello, rabble-rouser._

"Certain things? Things for which I'm essential? I wonder what those things are," I mused aloud, adjusting my pants for comfort.

"Oh yes, Mister Masen. There are things that I can only do when I think about you."

_Fuck me. Is she talking about what I think she's talking about?_

_Does a bear shit in the woods, you idiot?_

I couldn't resist asking, "So what did you take off a minute ago? I heard some fabric rustling, Miss Swan. Are you in a state of undress?"

_Please say that you are._

"Are you asking me what I'm wearing, Edward?"

_She's playing along with you; she actually wants to have phone sex!_

"Yes, I am, Bella. What exactly do you have on?"

"I must confess that all I'm wearing are my polka-dot panties and a pair of black jeans."

_She's topless? Smoothly sculpted shoulders, creamy skin, rosebud nipples. Bella's hand reaches up to casually drift her fingers over one rounded breast…_

"Bella, would you have any objections to a few polite requests?"

"How could I resist when you use those good manners?" she purred. "What did you have in mind?"

"First you need to stand up, please." I heard a faint sound as she shifted. "Unbutton your jeans, and pull down the zipper for me." I heard the phone hit the bed and a few more rustling sounds.

"Okay, Edward. All I'm wearing are those panties and a smile. Shall I take them off?"

"Not yet. Go get that little toy that Alice bought for you. Then take off those panties and lie in the middle of your bed." I heard a drawer open and close, and a few seconds of silence on the line.

_Bella is walking around in a pair of panties, retrieving a sex toy so that you can talk her to completion. I have died and gone to heaven. _

I had to unbutton and unzip my jeans to make some breathing room. Things were snug.

"I'm ready for you, Edward," she breathed, sounding turned on. "What are you wearing, favorite man of mine?"

"Your only man, Bella." I prompted her, my voice thickening with desire. "Say it for me, please."

"You're the only man for me, Edward. Only you," she repeated huskily.

_You're mine, Bella, mine. _

"Now, take off your pants and shirt. You need to catch up with me," she demanded softly.

_Damn. She's into this. Are we really going to do this?  
Hell yes, you are!_

I stood up and shoved my jeans down my legs and pulled my shirt off over my head, tossing it aside. I stepped out of the pants, knowing my erection was already rock hard and pressing beyond the boundaries of the elastic waist band.

"What's left, Edward?" she asked in that same husky voice.

"You know what's left, my Bella." My voice sounded a bit strained at this point, but there was nothing I could do about it.

"Take them off, Edward. I want you to lie on the bed and imagine me on top of you with nothing between us."

_Fuck, Bella. I don't even need visuals. The sound of your voice has me ready to explode._

Obediently, I tugged on the waistband of my boxer briefs, pulling them down. I got on the bed, my head resting against one of the pillows. I must have moaned as my hand instinctively went to the tip of my shaft, spreading the moisture around.

"A mite bit turned on, are we, Mister Masen?"

'_A mite bit' is not the phrase I would use, Bella._

"There's a strong possibility of that, yes."

Realizing that my hand was acting without my consent, I pulled it away to stop from going ahead without her. I squeezed my eyes shut and panted for a moment. The phone was quiet on both ends for a second.

_She's too quiet. What is she thinking? Is my phone voice grossing her out? Please say something, Bella._

"Get it together, Edward," she said in an authoritative voice. The huskiness was gone. My eyes snapped open. "You're not allowed to touch anything yet." Her no-nonsense statement was just enough to help me with my control. She must have figured out that her sex-kitten tone was taking me too far, too fast.

_God, I love her. Ladies first, Edward. You need to take the reins back from her, or she'll talk you right into an orgasm without even trying. She's that sexy. Don't let her down._

"I've got it together Bella. Did you do what I asked of you? Are you in that bed imagining me there with you?"

"Yes, Edward. I do wish you were here, but your voice makes me so wet; it's almost as good as having you here."

_Fuck me; she's already wet. My voice – she likes my voice. Keep talking to her._

"I want you to lightly scratch your fingernails up your chest and over your collarbone, Bella. I'm kissing you all over and using my teeth on the sensitive curve of your neck."

"Damn, Edward. You've made my nipples hard, and I haven't even touched them yet."

"I'm sucking on them right now, Bella. You taste absolutely wonderful."

"I'm definitely saying hello to your disobedient friend now, Edward. My, my, he's large and hard and totally hot for me. I like. I like him a lot." I could hear the pleased smile in her voice.

_She wants to touch you. Okay, try something small, don't lose it Edward._

"Put your phone on speaker and set the toy beside you, Bella." My hand drifted back down to my erection. I moved the foreskin with a light touch.

_God, that feels good. That's her hand - her small, cool hand._

"Oh, Edward. I can't wait until we do this for real. I want you inside me so badly," she said between short breaths.

"I want you too, honey. You have no idea how much. We'll get there, Bella. We'll get there soon."

"Mmm, soon, Edward. I want you all to myself." Her voice trailed off, and I wondered what she was doing.

_This is equal parts torture and enjoyment. Not seeing her is driving me nuts!_

"Bella, I want you to touch your breast, now. Moisten your thumb in your mouth and rub it in circles on the tips." She seemingly complied with my request as I heard her moaning softly, little mewling sounds coming through the phone line. "Now a little pinch, Bella. Not too hard, just a little bit."

_I'd bet her neck is arching back. When she moans like that, she starts shifting around on the bed for me._

"Mmmmm, Edward, your mouth feels so good."

"Can you feel my tongue moving in circles, sweetheart?"

"I need more, Edward! Unhhh, please." She was no doubt thrashing her hips up and down by now.

_She's ready, she's mindless for you._

It was difficult to ignore my own needs, but I forced myself to tend to Bella and ignore the throbbing ache in my groin for a few more seconds.

_Wait until she's further along than you are. Wait, Edward._

"You can turn it on now, Bella." Within moments, I heard the low hum of the toy as she powered it up. "Rub it back and forth, but don't touch your clit with it, honey." I heard her breath catch and a few panting moans as she apparently followed my instructions.

I allowed my hand to slowly work up and down on my hard length as I participated alongside her. "Fuck, Bella, you feel so good."

"Inside, Edward, please! I need you." She was panting now, and I imagined her head thrashing back and forth on the pillow as she begged me to satisfy her.

"Press it inside slowly, Bella. I don't want you to come yet."

_She's probably not going slowly. My greedy girl is losing control._

"Ahh, ahhh, Edward. Please, more."

"Tell me what you're doing, Bella," I managed between clenched teeth, my hand working quickly now. The pleasure was gathering in my balls as I was getting close to coming. I forced myself to stop for a moment, not wanting to come too soon.

"I'm moving it inside of me, Edward. In and out, in slow strokes. You're warm and hard and pressing inside of me. You feel so… Fuck! Good."

_Her aroused voice will send you over the edge; you'd better wait another second._

"Move it faster now, Bella. Move your hips up to meet me. That's it, Bella. Let go. Press it up inside where you know it's good."

I allowed my hand to stroke once again, knowing Bella was close. I picked up right where I left off. The slick moisture inside my foreskin made a soft, wet sound as I moved it back and forth with purpose.

"Unhhh, Bella," I panted out with a low grunt.

"Edward, I'm close. So good! So hard. Mmmm, yes. Yes! Please. Oh Edward…"

I was chanting her name again and again, my hips rising to meet my fist in tandem with her panted words of pleasure. I heard her moans intensify in the background as I felt the sharp, ecstatic tingles begin in my lower back and wrap around into my groin, balls tightening as I came.

"EDWARD! FUCK, EDWARD YES!"

"BELLA!" I roared, out of control for that moment as great spurts of semen left my body, falling back onto my hand and stomach as I gave in to the feelings of release. I stroked all the way through the aching delirium, as my body jerked in the last few pulses until I lay there, throbbing. One last trickle oozed out of the head as my whole body was slowly coming down from the frenzy. My blood was still pounding in my ears when I had the sense to wipe off with my briefs and pick up the phone with my other hand.

"Bella, are you there?" I asked, hoping she wouldn't feel awkward.

"Mmmm, Edward." She sounded dreamy. I could almost imagine the smile tugging at her lips, and the contented glow on her face and chest. Her rosy coloring was always the most gorgeous right after I'd brought her to completion. I could still hear a vibration noise in the background.

"Turn off the toy and climb under the covers, baby. You don't want to fall asleep, and then wake up all cold."

She yawned into the phone and then I heard the buzzing sound cease and more rustling noises as she lifted the sheets and settled into her pillow. "Did you remember to set your alarm for tomorrow?" I reminded her softly. "You might want to give yourself a few extra minutes since I stole your shower time away from you."

"It was worth it," she stated simply. I chuckled at the sated, sleepy sound of her voice.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, love. Sweet dreams."

"G'night Edward."

"Goodnight Bella."

My thumb hit the end button on the phone. "I love you, Bella." My voice sounded hushed in the quiet of my room.

_When are you going to admit your feelings for her?_

_I don't know! I've never done that before._

_There's a first time for everything, right? What are you afraid of? Bella wouldn't leave you hanging. Own up to it, she'll admire you for your candor._

_She's perfectly within her rights to hold off on reciprocating her own feelings until she's ready._

_What's the worst-case scenario? You tell her and she looks down, a little bit embarrassed because she can't return the phrase. Just prepare your words as though you know she won't be returning the favor. _

_I guess I want it to be perfect. _

_Perfect is for movies and level foundations, Edward. Real is better than perfect._

_Is something genuine better than something perfect?_

_Of course, you nitwit. When has anything you've chosen been absolute perfection?_

_Bella, of course; she's perfection to me._

_We're talking about you; of course she's as perfect as humanly possible._

_Most everything I do has an awkward start._

_Then embrace the awkwardness. She doesn't mind it._

_So I should let myself stammer and sound like an idiot?_

_Coherency is always good, but you don't have to plan some ridiculous moment with jewelry – just tell her._

_What about a necklace with a heart in it somewhere?_

_You will have more success if a valuable gift is nowhere in sight. Or, give her something for less than $4.99; she can't get mad if it's a shockingly cheap gift._

_So shockingly cheap is going to be my game plan, huh?_

_Make an attempt, Edward – it can't hurt._

Another attempt was on my mind as well. I would try to sleep through the night without waking up. I had almost done that on Sunday. I woke up in the early hours of the morning, sporting colossal wood. Knowing that was the condition of most men around the country at that time of the morning, I didn't chastise myself for getting up to shower and take care of it while she slept. According to her rules, this one was on me.

It had been delicious to creep back into bed and hold her warm body close to mine for a little longer before we both had to wake up for school. With a little determination on this night, I intended to sleep all the way through in my own apartment, knowing this would be the goal for our nights together.

Friday

2:30 PM

BPOV

Waiting in line at the school clinic was not my idea of a good time, but it was the right thing to do. I had no clear idea as to how much fortitude Edward and I would have when it came to holding off on sex. When that time came, I wanted the barn door closed, locked, and maybe fortified with some extra weather stripping, so that nothing stray could creep in unexpectedly. The last thing I wanted was some kind of baby-trapping melodrama with my real estate millionaire boyfriend. I had always hoped for a husband who would want me for me. That is, if we ever got to the point where marriage was imminent. It would be preferable if I could avoid confusing our already complicated relationship with surprises. I didn't expect him to have sole responsibility for securing the baby avoidance methods, which was why I was currently standing in this annoyingly long line.

Not that I would even expect him to marry me, per se. Many women these days were single mothers. While not the easiest route, single motherhood sounded preferable to facing a marriage where doubts would always creep in - doubts about whether or not my husband had chosen me freely, or whether he was performing some sacrifice of fatherly duty.

_Why are you contemplating single motherhood and marriage to Edward?_

_First of all, you haven't had intercourse yet, so simmer down. Second of all, you are a student first and foremost – Student! Third and finally, do not become one of those psychotic women who starts looking for white picket fences and a minivan after knowing the guy for…less than three weeks._

It would be a complete disruption to my intention to graduate and do something with my degree if something unplanned were to happen. So, here I stood in line, waiting to fill the prescription from the nurse practitioner who had obligingly fulfilled my request for the pill. There were only two people ahead of me now. I tapped my foot impatiently, knowing that I had to be several blocks away in less than an hour. I made it to the front of the line, finally, and waited while the pharmacist gave me a paper with all of the warnings and instructions. I took out my student ID, paid the small fee, and began the trek to my car in record time. I decided to drive to my appointment to meet with Emmett for the last time as doctor and patient.

After parking and locking my car, I found myself once again in that small waiting room on Broxton Avenue in the historic village area of downtown Westwood. This time was different, however. This time I was returning as a woman who had achieved several of her goals. This time I knew that even getting a new doctor would not slow down my growth. Perhaps in time I wouldn't even need to go to sex therapy.

_Edward Masen is my new hero. Even He-man and Rainbow Brite have dimmed a little in comparison. He-man is still hot, but he has nothing on Edward. _

Shifting my shoulder bag to rest against my back, I went up to the reception desk to sign in on the little clipboard, and indicated that I was there to see Dr. McCarty.

_You can do this, Bella. Just say what you practiced last night._

_What if he doesn't react like I rehearsed?_

_Then wing it; get what you need, and skedaddle if you have to._  
Walking to one of those periwinkle blue pleather chairs, I set down my bag and wandered back to the O'Keeffe print on the wall. It was another gorgeous study of a white flower, but this one had different delicate shades of yellow and green running from the center and blending into pure white, almost feathery petals. The detailing was exquisite, and didn't appear to be watercolor, but rather a print of one of her famous oil paintings. I hadn't really looked at it last time. I had been too absorbed with my own bemusement to stop and look critically.

_I wonder who chose it. The yellow in the flower seems to work tonally with the wall color. _

The walls were painted a pale shade of blue.

_It's almost as though all of the colors surrounding me have been culled from the same color family._

"Esme bought this for me when I opened my first office on my own," murmured an amused voice from behind me and to the left. I turned slowly, knowing this must be Edward's adoptive father.

"I was just wondering who put all of this together. The wall color works with the painting which compliments the chairs. Oh, sorry, Dr. Cullen," I stuttered. "I'm Bella," I held out my hand and shook his.

_Why did he sound amused? I wonder what he was thinking._

"Yes, of course, he replied smoothly. "Please call me Carlisle. You know, I've been dying to meet the girl who made my son sound so happy. We spoke earlier this week and he sounded like a younger, more joyful version of himself." I tried not to blush, but it was a losing battle.

_What on earth did Edward say about me?_

_Focus, Bella! Ask for what you need. Be assertive._

"This is actually my last visit to see Dr. McCarty. I was going to request a referral to another doctor. I was fortunate to find this office, but with me dating Edward, I thought that might get a little complicated." Glad I hadn't stammered, I looked up into Carlisle's friendly face and was glad this was my last visit here.

_He's way too good looking to be your boyfriend's father. Thank God for referrals! _

_Geez, Bella, that would only take care of office visits – you still have to meet the parents, and he's not going to suddenly get ugly._

_Thanks for reminding me._

"When Edward phoned, he told me you would be looking for a new doctor, hopefully with the same or similar specialty. I have an old friend whose practice is not far from mine. Perhaps it will work out for you," he offered, removing a money clip from his pocket. Tucked between the bills and the prongs was a business card which he handed to me.

_Edward called his dad about me?_

_Yes, Bella. Father and son tend to do that – they talk to each other. Dr. Cullen would need time to find the right doctor for you. It's no big deal; don't freak out._

"Thank you for your trouble. I really appreciate it." I took the card and glanced at the black lettering on a white background.

_Demetri Felix, Phd. _

_Psychologist, Licensed Sexual Therapist_

"Unfortunately, I have a patient waiting; I should go. But, it was lovely meeting you, Bella. Esme and I are looking forward to visiting with you in a less professional setting," he said with a head tilt toward the office and a smile. I smiled back in response, and he turned to stroll through the arched entry into the hall. I had just settled into my seat when the receptionist called my name and told me to go to room three.

I quickly made my way to the same entry Carlisle had just used. I passed into the hallway and read the wooden numbers on the doors until I found the appropriate room.

I sat in another blue chair in between a small table and a potted tree; this one had a fuzzy seat and reflective metal arms. I was leafing through a copy of _Sunset _magazine when Emmett walked into the room.

"Bella! I'm so glad to see you again. How are you doing today?" I stood to set the magazine back onto the stack and shook his hand. Lowering slowly into my chair, I answered his question.

"I'm very well, thank you. I have to confess my disappointment, however. I was expecting a whip and a dildo to be waiting for me. How could you let me down like this, Dr. McCarty?" I held my serious and innocent expression for a beat before I began to snicker.

"I suppose I deserve that," he returned with a chuckle. "So I have to ask you, Bella. Are you going to get a hug, a handshake or a high-five today?"

"Aren't those…Don't those come at the end of the appointment?" I asked, cautiously.

"That's my way of asking how you've done on your assignment. The individuals who chose a hug invariably feel they need comfort for having messed up. Those who choose the handshake are opting for the least contact possible, or even a more distant approach. Perhaps they have something to hide. The patients who request a high five know they've done something right. So, what's it going to be for you this time, Bella?"

"Definitely a high-five," I answered candidly. Then I decided to give him the information he wanted. I didn't want to tell him any details, though. He didn't need to know that much.

_You could earn Edward some bragging rights with his brother. I'm sure Emmett teases him. Edward could have a one-up on him for once._

"I'm not frigid." I waited to see his response. Emmett raised his eyebrows and nodded, looking surprised at my blunt delivery, but pleased.

"Go on," he urged me.

"The frigid thing was a load of crap. Everything works," I declared, no doubt grinning from ear to ear. I waited a beat before saying the last part. "And your brother is a sexual genius."

Emmett's mouth dropped open and he looked a bit shocked. He bent down to write something in his folder.

_Ha! He doesn't seem to be capable of writing while talking to me this time. I must have really stunned him. Score one for Bella._

I assumed he was wondering what questions he could ask me – what would be appropriate to ask as a doctor against what he wanted to ask me as my boyfriend's brother. Before he could pose a question, I took my notepad out of my shoulder bag.

"I've had three dreams since I saw you last. Dr. Pfeiffer always had me write them down and bring them in to my next session. Is that something I should do with you?" I asked while folding the wire bound notebook open to the first dream. I handed it to him, looking up at him with counterfeit sincerity.

_Take the notebook, Emmett. Take the notebook, my pretty._

"Yes, of course," he said, having regained his professional composure. "The subconscious has a way of working through things while we sleep. Now, let's see what we have here," he began, talking a pair of wire-rimmed glasses out of his white coat pocket and perching them on his nose. He started to read the first dream from when Edward had woken me up so early on that Saturday morning. It was fairly short. I'd been standing naked in a doctor's office, taken a face plant, and everyone laughed at me. Banging my head against the wall, while calling myself a loser, had woken me up.

"Well the first dream seems pretty standard. I can see that you're rather hard on yourself, however. Almost everyone has had some version of the naked in public dream," he stated, looking up and turning the page. "I wouldn't be too concerned about that. It's okay to cut yourself some slack, Bella." His voice trailed off at the end as he began to read the second dream. A few moments passed as his eyes glided down the page, line by line. At one point, it looked as though he stopped reading to go back and re-check things. This was the one with the angry cats yelling at me. I saw his eyebrows shoot up and his lips press together. Puckering his mouth, he tried not to laugh. I thought he actually stopped reading to hang his head and get some control. Managing to return his eyes to the page, he placed a hand over his mouth. It seemed as though he couldn't restrain himself, however.

"Angry cats, Bella!" He was full-on laughing now, so I grabbed the notebook out of his hands. "'You have to let the cat out of the cage!' That's a good one!" He started cackling and gasping with laughter. "Bella, who knew you could be so ridiculous while asleep?"

At his use of the word 'ridiculous', I decided to let loose on my anger. I started beating him over the head with the notebook. Thwap! "That's for laughing at me, Emmett." Smack! "Yes, I have dreams about angry cats." Thwap! "I put my trust in you, Emmett!" Smack! "You're fired!" I hit him once more for good measure. He was still laughing though he had his arms over his head for protection from my abusive notebook.

"Wait! I'm fired? What the hell? Let me read the third dream. There was more writing underneath that page. C'mon, Bella. I've already seen the worst," he bargained, trying to convince me.

I had already determined that I would let him read all three dreams. It would give him more ammunition against me, but he wouldn't be able to say a thing unless he wanted a hefty law suit. I handed it over, feigning reluctance. "Fine. What harm can it do at this point?" I mumbled sullenly. Emmett took the battered notebook back eagerly. He turned the page and began reading again.

This dream was after Edward had guided me to paradise. The wise tabby cat had told me that I'd served my people well. Oddly enough, by now I considered Emmett one of my people. It was part of the reason why he was allowed to read my dreams. He had done quite a bit for me by seeing the possibility of Edward and me together. I could at least let him read my silly dreams – even if I planned on using his reaction against him.

"A shaman cat, Bella?" He started laughing again, holding his side. "A ring of red flowers? That must have been after your first orgasm. Very subtle symbolism there," he commented with deliberate sarcasm. "Aren't you a literature major?" he asked, snickering. "Color symbolism is all you've got?"

_The nerve! I can't believe him. He has the audacity to criticize my dream as though it has no literary merit? It's a fucking dream! I wasn't even conscious for it._

I snatched the notebook out of his hands, shoving it into my shoulder bag, and stood up quickly. "Not all of us can have grunting caveman dreams, Emmett," I returned in a droll tone of voice. "I'll bet you convinced yourself you were the first one to discover fire in one of your sleeping delusions," I sneered scathingly. "Did you even figure out why I let you read that stuff? I totally didn't have to do that." I leaned one hand against the counter.

"You took it away too fast. I got to the 'Dances With Wolves' part when you grabbed it again," he explained with a hound-dog look on his face. I sighed, retrieved it from my bag, and handed it back to him, demanding, "No degrading comments, please. C'mon Emmett! You're supposedly a doctor, for crying out loud."

"A doctor who hopes to be your brother-in-law one day, Bella," he responded, already starting to read again. He continued perusing the page for a few minutes. Eventually he stopped and looked up. "I don't get it," he stated. "There were only a few sentences after that. What did I miss?" He looked genuinely puzzled.

_Brother- in- law? What the fuck? What have Emmett and Edward been talking about? I'm a student, Dammit! Student. What's the deal with marriage on my brain today? I don't even want to think about this stuff, and the universe is making me think about it against my will._

He was asking me to tell him why I'd allowed him to read my dreams. I struggled to refocus my thoughts. He had just asked what he'd missed from the dream.

"There's a line in there that says, 'You should be proud; you have served your people well'."

"Yeah?"

"Well, against my better judgment, Emmett, you're one of my people. I know you've been rooting for us, so I had to give you an update before I get another therapist." I blushed a little, not a full flush, but I turned slightly pink because I was admitting he was important to me – even if we'd only spoken that one time.

He stood and took two steps forward, and I was gripped in a giant bear hug. "I'm so happy for you two, Bella. I know I can be an ass sometimes, but I'm really glad things worked out." He released me and stood back.

"High-five?" I asked, wondering if the hug was all I would get. He raised his palm above his shoulder and I hopped a little to smack his hand with my own.

"Thanks, Dr. McCarty," I said in a coy voice with a twitch to my lips. I was wondering when he would figure out the confidentiality thing.

"You should call me Emmett," he returned with a grin.

"No," I stated firmly. "Thank you, Dr. McCarty." I repeated myself slowly for him, hoping he would catch on.

He sat down in shock, his face a little bit pale under his ruddy good looks. "Wait a second, wait! Awww Bella! Why did you let me read that! That is so unfair. Not even one joke? Don't do this to a guy…"

I stepped forward while pointing my finger at him like Granny Higgenbotham used to do. "If you breathe even one word about my irate kitties, you will live to regret it, Emmett McCarty. I'll slap you with a breach of confidentiality suit so fast; you'll wish you'd gone into a legal career so you could have a chance of settling out of court. I'm serious, Emmett. Don't fuck with me. Don't even dream of forming the p-word in your diabolical head."

"You're not kidding, are you?" he sputtered with some genuine puzzlement on his face. I leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"I'll see you at the bar tonight." He sat still, not really responding. "Thanks for the jogging book, too. That was really thoughtful. I especially liked chapter five. I'll let you know what I think about chapter ten."

He struggled to absorb what I'd just told him. Finally figuring out that it was another shock-inducing distraction, he groaned, shook his head and asked, "Not even one joke, Bella? That is so mean!" he whined.

"My lawyer's nickname is Crusher, Emmett. He is very good at what he does. I think the last car that he traded in for something better was an Astin Martin DB9. I have him on speed dial. Go ahead and make fun of my vagina in public, Emmett. I'll just call Jake."

I gave him a little wave with a flutter of my fingers as I walked out. He looked as though I'd just served him a stack of pancakes and then denied him butter and syrup. I saw him reach for his phone before I turned to walk away.

I walked out of the office, checking my pocket for the business card. It was still there. Heading down the hallway back to the waiting room, I stopped for a moment to put the business card into a more secure place in my wallet.

_Maybe the lawyer part was too much._

_He made fun of your dream based on its literary qualities, laughed at you, and then was disconcerted that he couldn't share his bemusement with the whole world. He totally deserved that!_

_Yeah, but you lied to him, Bella. That might blow up in your face eventually._

_Lied? Everything I told him was somewhat true._

_Accomplished lawyer, Bella?_

_He __**is **__pre-law!_

_Crusher, Bella?_

_So what if Crusher is a St. Bernard. Emmett doesn't need to know that._

_An Aston Martin. Really? Wasn't that taking things too far? To some men, cars are sacred. You lied about the sanctity of the vehicle for Cripe's sake!_

_Jake really did take down his poster of an Aston Martin. It was a phase. I think he replaced it with a poster of the new Porsche. Besides, we are our dreams, right? If Jake wants to be all of those things, then he will. Tony Robbins would agree with me!_

_Great, Bella. Now you're using the Tony Robbins Defense._

I pushed hard on the metal bar on the entrance door, heading back into the sunlight. I had enough time to make it home before Edward's last class ended. I strolled through the late-afternoon sunlight toward the parking lot, feeling rather pleased with how things had gone.

EPOV

4:45 PM

I was sitting in my Architectural History class wishing it would end early or at least on time. Just when I thought things were winding down, this red-headed harpy in the front row would ask another idiotic question that could be answered by consulting the glossary of the textbook. I was reaching for my messenger bag for the third time when I felt it vibrate. My phone was buzzing. I reached for it covertly and checked the screen. I had a message from Emmett. Reading his first text, I leaned down in my seat and answered him.

FROM EMMETT:

DUDE. UR GIRL WAS HERE. SHE FIRED MY ASS

FROM EDWARD:

GOOD FOR HER. TOLD HER TO

FROM EMMETT:

YOU OK W/ HER SUING ME 2?

FROM EDWARD:

YOU CAN AVOID A LAWSUIT ON OWN, EM.

I had just finished sending a message when the class actually did finish up and the students began to file out of the rows and into the fresh air. I gathered my things and walked out easily, now that the hoards had departed.

FROM EMMETT:

U SUCK. WHERE LOYALTY? IM UR BRO.

FROM EDWARD:

NO U SUCK. DON'T GIVE MY WOMAN GRIEF

FROM EMMETT:

BROS B4 HOS

FROM EDWARD:

DOESN'T COUNT. BELLAS NOT A HO

FROM EMMETT:

UR RIGHT. I LIKE HER. SHE WOOPED MY ASS

FROM EDWARD:

GET USED TO IT. SHE'S GOOD AT IT.

FROM EMMETT:

ASK ABOUT HER LAWYER FRIEND JAKE. HE SOUNDED FISHY.

FROM EDWARD:

JAKE? WILL DO. THNX.

I was half way to the parking lot when my phone rang from my pocket. I looked at the screen, surprised to see Emmett was calling now.

_Emmett again? What is on his mind?_

"Hey." I answered right away. "What's up?"

"It's Emmett. I just wanted to tell you that I should have kept my mouth shut about the lawyer character. For all I know it could be a chick. Jake could be short for Jacqueline. I was just feeling squashed because she totally steam-rollered me. I'm sorry for meddling again, Edward. Don't do anything stupid, alright? I really like her, and she seems like a good girl." Emmett seemed genuinely worried that he might be getting Bella into a mess.

"Don't worry about it. I'll ask her because I'm curious of course, but I'm not planning a Spanish Inquisition or anything. I'll leave the stupid stuff to you, Emmett."

"Shit. I guess I deserve that, too."

_He sounds less than his usual confident, cocky self._

"Too? What else happened to you today?" I questioned in a surprised tone of voice.

"Well, you already know that I got my ass beaten by a girl; I got threatened with a law suit; and I might have gotten a great girl in trouble with her man. So, yeah. I'm zero for three today."

_Wow, Bella sure did a number on him. I don't know if this is sad or funny. Poor Emmett – he was completely unprepared for her. She probably anaesthetized him with those big brown eyes before going in for the kill._

"Like I said, don't worry about it, and I'll see you at 'Sing Sing' later okay? Hey, before you go, who got this whole thing together tonight? I haven't even met Alice yet and there are like six of us going. How did she do that?"

"Rose told me she got a hold of Esme's phone number by calling the office. She asked Esme who she should invite. The rest is history. Alice sounds interesting."

_How does Alice even know who Esme is? Did Bella mention her name?_

"Yeah. Bella told me she's psychic. This should be different, to say the least. Listen, I'm at my car, and I should go, okay?"

"One last thing, Bro! You'll want to hear this, I promise."

"Oh?" I asked, sounding intrigued.

"She gave you the ultimate compliment. She said you were a sexual genius."

I burst into laughter from hearing those words from my brother. He had just told me I sucked sexually the last time we'd played basketball. Now he was eating his words.

"You're shitting me, right?" I asked when I had it together.

"That's great to know, Emmett. Thanks."

"Later."

"Bye."

_She deliberately scored me bragging rights with my own brother. What shy girl would sacrifice her privacy just to boost her man's ego a little bit?_

_Oh, yes of course. That would be my sweet girl Bella. Innocent and bold, eternally beautiful Bella._

_Lucky bastard._

_Yes, I am._

I hit the unlock button on my keychain and slid into the leather seat. I had originally intended to go home, take a quick shower and change. I decided to go straight to Bella's apartment instead. I was leaving campus and turning onto Wilshire when I realized that I was whistling.

_You don't whistle. What has gotten into you?_

_Bella, of course. She makes my heart sing._

_Sappy nonsense, Edward!_

_She likes that about me. Besides, sappy is better than alone and unhappy._

_Ain't that the truth._

I kept right on whistling until I pulled into the parking space in front of her apartment.

BPOV

5:03

I was loading a few dishes into the dishwasher when I heard three swift raps against my door. Grabbing a towel to wipe my damp hands, I opened the door a crack, using the security chain. Edward was on the other side.

_Edward! _

_What are you doing here? You're early! _

_Who cares! Get your butt over here so I can kiss you._

I fumbled to undo all of the locks and then launched myself at him. Kissing his neck, as least as much of his neck as I could reach, I smiled when he chuckled and asked, "Did you miss me?"

.He hefted me up in his arms and walked through the doorway, kicking the door shut with one leg. I wrapped my legs around his waist and arched up for a real kiss. Gripping me under my bottom, he held me firmly in place so I wouldn't slip. He walked forward to the tile counter in the kitchen and deposited me on the edge. This freed his hands to stroke up and down my back. I pulled away from our kiss to get some air.

"Yes, I missed you. This dumb apartment is the doldrums without you. You are the wind in my sails!" I gestured dramatically with an arm. "You are the captain of my heart," I simpered with melodrama, bringing that same hand back to my chest in a fist. He kissed me again to shut me up, but there was a smile on his lips. I was trying to come up with some kind of rudder or steering statement about life when he stopped kissing me to ask something.

"Hey. I have a question for you," he began.

"And I have an answer. I hope," I returned with some cheekiness.

"Am I not the only man in your life, Bella?" His voice sounded anxious.

I checked to see if he had that crooked grin on his face, but he actually looked far more serious than I expected. There was no twinkle in his eyes. He actually looked – like he was waiting apprehensively for my answer.

_Think, Bella, think. What on earth is he getting at? Your dad passed away. You don't date anyone else. You have no other family members…oh shit. You just mentioned Jake to Emmett._

_Tactical error, Bella. You should have weighed the benefits of using a real person versus inventing someone._

"I think I know what this is about. Did Emmett contact you?" I asked wearily.

"That's not a very reassuring answer, Bella," he replied with a pinched look about his mouth. He was rubbing a thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose. I placed both hands on his shoulders and got his attention.

"Edward. Please let me explain. This is far less than you think it is." I grabbed his hand and hopped off the counter, leading us to the couch. He sat down in one corner; every muscle from his back to his shoulders through his neck looked tense and rigid, and I took the space right next to him. He seemed to be struggling with something again. He crossed his arms against his chest defensively, and then uncrossed them. He looked up at the ceiling and then sighed. Finally, he patted his lap and held open his arms. I crawled onto his lap, my legs dangling over his thighs as I began to explain about Jake. He was still holding himself tightly, still tense while I spoke.

"Jake and I have never dated. We've never been more to each other than non-related brother and sister." The tension eased a bit in his shoulders as I felt him relax into holding me. "He kissed me once when we were thirteen, but I told him it was "ick," and he agreed with me."

Edward's hands had flexed around my waist when he'd heard the word, 'kiss', but he eased up when I finished my statement. "He is happily married, living in Portland, attending the university up there. He is pre-law, and his wife Leah is working and taking care of their little girl, Ruth." The last part of my statement took away the haunted look in his eyes.

_Good grief, what on earth was he imagining I was going to say? Is he... jealous? No, that can't be, right? Holy crow, I think he is._

I tried to gauge his response further. He looked largely relieved. Suddenly I was pressed against his chest as he hugged me fiercely and pressed a kiss to my hair. "God, you have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that. Although I'm slightly jealous that he has known you since you were a kid... I'll bet he got to see you in pigtails and chase you around the yard with frogs."

"Actually it was dead bugs and worms, but you're pretty much right. I used to visit my father up in Washington. Our dads were good friends. The last time I spoke with Jake was at the funeral. I cried on his shoulder for a bit. We don't keep in touch too frequently unless there's a problem or something. I drop him an email every once in a while just to make sure all is well."

"So what on earth did you do to Emmett? He said you kicked his ass and served it to him on a platter – or something to that effect."

"'Served it to him on a platter!'" I repeated laughingly. "That is _his_ side of the story. He actually laughed uncontrollably when he read my dream. He laughed at me, Edward. He is supposed to be my doctor, my impartial observer to counsel me with his wisdom and sage medical advice. I may have shocked him a little bit, but that's not my fault that he's so easily taken aback. He chose this field! It's not my problem that he's a pansy who can't keep his professional dignity together."

Edward was pressing his face into my temple and laughing quietly. He repeated the word "pansy" before he snickered again and said the phrases, "taken down by a slip of a girl," and "too funny." His laughter had tapered off when he had the thought to ask me how I'd kicked his brother's ass.

"Well, I sort of beat him with my notebook," I admitted rather sheepishly.

"Beat him?" he asked skeptically. "You and I are speaking of the same man, right? Huge, like a line-backer? Six foot, five inches tall? You beat him with notebook paper? Where?" He seemed like he was having a hard time imagining it.

"Um, well...he was sitting down, directly across from me. I snatched the notebook out of his hands while he was reading it and _laughing_ at me, and I hit him upside the head several times while he ducked and held up his arms as a shield to my attack."

Edward raised an eyebrow at what I assumed was my fearlessness at beating his brother in retaliation.

"It was entirely necessary, Edward. He called me ridiculous!"

"How dare anyone call you ridiculous," he offered soothingly. "You should have pulled his hair and scratched him, too." His voice was entirely serious, but his lip was twitching at the corner.

"Not you too, Edward. I still have that notebook somewhere…I think it hurts. Don't you dare laugh at me, you giggling oaf."

"Giggling? I'll have you know that I never giggle. Only dignified man-chuckles escape these lips," he declared solemnly.

"What is it with men and their masculine posturing? Have you ever fainted, Edward? Fallen into a swoon?"

He laughed. "No, Bella. I've never swooned or fainted. I passed out when Bobby Ridgeway kneed me in the groin in fourth grade, but I've never fainted."

"I see." I pondered this, rubbing an imaginary beard. "You do realize that fainting, swooning, and passing out are all the same thing?"

"No. I disagree. Only a woman can swoon. It had something to do with those contraptions they used to wear, and I've never felt faint. Therefore, I passed out – which is different from the other two."

"Sure, Edward. Sure."

"So what exactly did you say to Emmett?"

"I still have the last speech memorized. I practiced it last night." I quickly related the part about Jake and his nickname, as well as the bit about the car.

"So you got Emmett to believe that you have a zealous lawyer just waiting to slap him with a suit?" He sounded a bit incredulous at my manipulative abilities.

"Don't worry, Edward. I only use my powers if provoked. I'm like an electric eel – I only attack if you shove your fingers in my face. I'm not actually evil."

"Powers?" he muttered in an apprehensive voice. "How do I protect myself from these devious skills of yours?"

"You already know, Edward. I already told you. Just don't do anything that would royally piss me off, and we should be fine."

"So what are you going to do when he screws up and tells an off-color joke about you?"

_This could still blow up like an eighth grade science fair volcano, Bella._

_I don't care. It was totally worth it, simply for the expression on his face when he found out the comedy store was closed._

"I haven't figured that out yet. It depends on how long it takes him to discover there is no lawyer, or as long as it takes him to screw up. Probably nothing. If I'm reading him correctly, this could go on for a while. I'll get my money's worth, I'm sure, and I can take a joke. I can cry at the drop of a hat as well. It wouldn't take much to make him feel like a monumental jerk if I need to."

"Christ, Bella," Edward chuckled. "Remind me again not to piss you off….I'm rather intrigued about what you just said, though. How do you make yourself cry so easily? I've always wondered how people do that."

_Shoot, Bella. You revealed too much. Get yourself out of this._

"It's just this thing that I do. You know what?" I asked with a bright smile. "We have to get ready for tonight. Did you bring a change of clothes, or do we need to swing by your place?" I tried to sound as normal as possible while wiggling off his lap. His large hands latched onto my shoulders, holding me down before I could slither away.

_Shit._

"Not so fast, Miss Swan. That was a diversionary tactic if I've ever seen one. It's an ordinary question, Bella. Why did you just blow me off?"

_Crap. It must have been the smile. Too fake. Dammit, he's good._

"That wasn't a blow-off. We really do need to get going. Look at the time!" I gestured at the clock on the DVD player.

"Fess up, Bella – you know you can tell me anything, right? Besides, you can't miss something good at a karaoke bar, Bella. It's all terrible." His hands swept up and down my sides before lifting me astride his lap. My jean-clad thighs settled on either side of his lean hips. He scooted me forward, using his palms on my butt to line us up properly. His lips settled on the side of my neck underneath my ear. He whispered against my ear, "Altissima quaeque flumina minimo sono labi."

_No fucking fair! You cannot use Latin sex-talk to get what you want Edward. _

_Unnnhh, yes he can, dammit._

_Tell him this is an emotional boundary for you, Bella!_

_I can't; he might use more Latin sex-talk, and I like it too much._

"Not fair, Edward," I rasped into the air while he peppered kisses up and down my neck, causing goose bumps and budded nipples to appear.

"All you have to do is tell me what you were thinking just then, Bella. It's easy, really." He took a swipe at my neck with his tongue, and then sucked on the flesh with some pressure.

_Fucking Moses who parted the sea. I'm floating in liquid desire now, dammit._

"Okay, okay, okay," I relented. "I think you just rendered this pair of undies useless save for the laundry bin, Edward," I managed to gasp out between damp kisses which were sending shock waves from my neck to my belly.

"I'm rather fond of my effect on your panties. I take great pride in the sheer number you have to wash every week. C'mon, Bella. We really do need to get going. How do you make yourself cry without much effort?"

I looked up at him, wondering how to explain without unintentionally causing waterworks. Even thinking about this time in my life made me start to fall apart. I decided to just blurt it out and hoped that I could hold it together.

"I, uh, well. I just think about when I went away to school and left my dad alone in Washington, against his wishes." Stalling for a moment, I toyed with the _Eagles_ t-shirt he was wearing. "He wanted me to go to school locally up there. I just think of his disappointed face when I left," I gasped as a sob shook me unexpectedly. I continued to look down.

_Dammit, Bella. Do not be such a wussy! Stop your sniveling. Be a woman._

_I am being a woman! Women are allowed to cry. Leave me alone._

My voice ascended into a high-pitched watery whine. "I didn't get to say good bye." Tears were flowing down my face and dripping onto my chest. "He died before I could let him know how selfish and stupid I was. That's what I regret most. I didn't tell him…"

"Shhhh, Bella, It's okay. I'm so sorry. I'm a jerk. I shouldn't have pushed you to reveal this. I…" His arms tightened around me fiercely. I was fighting the tears and holding myself stiffly in emotional control. He urged me to let go and cry. I resisted it for several moments, claiming I didn't need to cry. He kissed my forehead and offered, "Whatever you need, then. Just tell me what to do." His voice conveyed his feelings of helplessness, and I felt bad for not warning him away from this.

"Nothing," I murmured. "Just hold me like you're doing." The tears began to fall despite my intentions to be strong. I sobbed in a restrained manner for a few minutes, not wanting to let myself get hysterical, but unable to stop the emotional let-down. He held me and made soothing noises.

"No, it's okay, Edward," I reassured him, sniffling. "I should be able to talk about this by now without losing it. I don't know why, but I can't keep it together when I mention how guilty I feel." Tears picked up again when I said the word, 'guilty', and I buried my face into his chest for a second to breathe and hiccup a little.

"Oh, Bella," he crooned soothingly. "Have you spoken to anyone about this? Anyone other than me?" he asked, stroking my hair slowly with one of his hands.

"Alice knows I feel bad about his death, but not exactly how bad. I would just change the subject whenever she asked about it. I did that again and again until she stopped asking."

"You know intellectually that it's not your fault that he died, right?"

"Of course I know in my head that there was nothing I could have done to fix his health. He didn't take care of himself properly. But, if I was there I could have at least made sure he ate a little healthier! I could have gotten him to go for walks with me or something. My mom used to tell me to take care of my father when she dropped me off for visitation. I screwed up, Edward."

"Bella, I want you to bring this up with your new therapist. He can help you work through this stuff. Locking it all up inside surely isn't helping you."

"I guess that's not such a bad idea," I admitted slowly.

"Do you still want to go to the bar? We can beg off if you want. There's no law that says we have to go." I sighed, leaning my forehead against his shoulder while looking down at his black leather belt. The fact that he'd held me during my mini breakdown had been a large influence on the length of this latest crying jag, and I didn't feel as down as thinking of my dad usually got me. I traced my fingers over the rectangular buckle before answering.

_Would you rather stay home and be a bum with him, or get out of the apartment for a while?_

_Does it really matter what we do? As long as I'm with him, whatever we do is stellar._

_It's been a long week with studying, and midterms – take a load off. Go have a drink with your hot man and sing your heart out. It will be good for you two. You practiced for this thing! Do you really want to cop-out on what could be your song with him?_

_You're right. No copping-out._

"No. I'm really looking forward to doing our song. You practiced didn't you?"

"Of course, it's a fairly easy song to learn," he replied easily.

I even got this pink jumpsuit from Goodwill. It looks like a 1970's polyester nightmare. I _have_ to go now! I can't let pink poly-blend go to waste!" With that, I kissed his cheek, struggled off his lap and headed to the bedroom to get changed and clean up my face.

**A/N: **

**Bella's cell phone does have speakerphone capabilities even if she has an inexpensive, outdated model. California law has mandated hands free technology in all cell phones since 2005. Bella got her phone once she started attending college which was fewer than three years ago.**

**Bella makes reference to the p-word. I doubt any of you need me to spell that out…However, on the odd chance that your brain is taking a vacation, think female body part and kitty cat…it begins with a "p." Got it? Great.**

**I've already got the songs for karaoke night picked out. All I can say is that I hope you like to laugh about the fashion sense of the recent past. If you have strong loyalties toward the hideousness that is 1970's culture, then I'm in trouble.**

**If you can hang in there, the Latin phrase that Edward used is explained at the beginning of the next chapter. I originally had it here, but it turned into this six page bridge conversation with nowhere for me to put on the brakes. Of course you could always Google it if you think waiting is bogus.**

**As always, I love the reviews because it gives me a chance to chit-chat with you about Twilight stuff. Drop me a line or indicate what you hated/loved in a review.**


	18. Still Waters Run Deep

**A/N: This is the karaoke chapter. You've probably heard Bella and Edward's song before; it's rather catchy. I heard it recently on an oldie's station in my area and knew I had to contrive a way to get it into the story. Alice and Jasper's song is very obscure. I can't even find the lyrics for it. You've no doubt heard Emmett and Rosalie's song in either the version I've chosen or on the airwaves in repetition during Celine Dion's radio domination in the 90's. I tell you all of this to plead with you, to actually watch the YouTube versions on my profile page before attempting to understand what I'm doing here. When you see the page break with five asterisks, please go watch the appropriate clip. None of it will make sense if you skip this step. I'm hoping to avoid a lot of puzzled reviews. We'll begin with Emmett and Rosalie, follow it up with Alice and Jasper, and finish with Bella and Edward.**

From Chapter 17:

"No. I'm really looking forward to doing our song. You practiced didn't you?"

"Of course, it's a fairly simple song to learn," he replied easily.

I even got this pink jumpsuit from Goodwill. It looks like a 1970's polyester nightmare. I _have_ to go now! I can't let pink poly-blend go to waste!" With that, I kissed his cheek, struggled off his lap and headed to the bedroom to get changed.

Chapter 18

Still Waters Run Deep

"I got you this hideous plaid tie to wear, and some psychedelic sunglasses, too!" I yelled from the bedroom. I quickly started to change, but decided I wanted to splash water on my face before I got dressed all the way.

I had just finished washing up and had the jumpsuit on half way when I walked out to the sofa in my bra, the straps to the jumpsuit trailing down my legs, unbuttoned. Edward had the drawer to the coffee table open. It had one small drawer nearest the couch. I kept the remote and a few takeout menus in that drawer. The knob was loose; it was always falling out. At my approach he dropped the knob, but didn't reach to pick it up. He looked down at the drawer and then back up at me again.

"Hey," I blotted my face with a towel. "What did that thing in Latin mean?" Shaking his head almost imperceptibly, he took some kind of silver tool out of his pocket and flipped open one of the attachments.

"Oh, I looked that up on Tuesday during class. It means, 'The deepest rivers flow with the least sound, or still waters run deep'." While he was talking to me, he was fiddling with the loose screw.

I cocked my head to the side, thinking. Then I leaned forward over the couch, smiled and kissed him on the forehead before returning to the bedroom to finish getting ready.

_What was that with the coffee table?_

_I don't know – something to do with the knob I guess._

_Still waters run deep. He thinks I have untapped depths. What a lovely compliment._

_Maybe he just thinks you're too quiet._

_Me, quiet?_

_Okay, so I may be a little bit shy around new people, but I'm not quiet around Edward. Definitely no. It was the first idea that you had. He's always doing such nice things for me. I have to figure out a way to do something sweet for him. What about that dessert discussion you had when he made you…_

_Sheesh, Bella can't you even say the phrase in your head? Try again._

_Okay, so he was talking about amusement park desserts when he made me come._

_Still sounds weird._

_Get to the point!_

_Okay, okay, maybe he has a sweet tooth. I can bake him stuff. Oooh! I bet he'd love popovers with lemon mousse and raspberry jam. I'll have to surprise him in the morning._

_The popover pan is at your apartment._

_Where are we sleeping tonight? Are we staying together?_

_Of course you are, dummy._

_No of course about it. What if he has plans in the morning or something?_

_Then ask him when you get a chance._

I slid on a white round-necked shirt and finished the buttons on the rose-colored polyester jumpsuit. The high-waist design made me look like Daisy Duke's more prim older sister. It was perfect! I was trying to emulate KiKi Dee's look from the 70's. I'd always loved her duet with Elton John. My mother used to play it while cleaning the house when I was little. The irony of it was the song's earnest request not to break a heart. What did my mother do? She left my father for an easier life and broke his heart for good. He never really recovered from her dissatisfaction with the life he had built for them.

As I was smoothing the fabric of the jumpsuit over my hips, I heard his voice from the other room asking me if I had any glue. I was a little puzzled by this, but told him about the school box at the top of the hall closet. I heard rummaging sounds and the closet door clicked shut.

After applying some pink lip gloss and parting my hair down the center, I walked back over to my closet to retrieve the garish plaid tie and oversized sunglasses for Edward. I wasn't sure how well he was going to receive this little costuming adventure.

_He should be glad I'm not asking him to wear a full leisure suit complete with shoes and hair pomade. Alice would love that. Come to think of it, Alice would probably have made him wear one._

I walked back into the living room, and Edward was down on the floor doing something to the drawer again. He looked up, glue on his fingers, rather surprised at my outfit. I wondered what was going through his mind. I decided to ask him about the dessert thing. "There's something I'd like to know…"

"Really. And what would that be?" he inquired with his head tilted to the side.

"What's your take on dessert? Do you have a sweet tooth?"

"Very much so. But I try not to indulge it too often." He grinned crookedly, and it made him look like a little boy who's been caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Adorable.

"What's too often?"

"Well, not every day. But, if something looks really good, on occasion I'll have some." I wondered if his mother had baked things for him when he was a kid.

_That's definitely something to ask Esme. It sounds like you'll meet her one of these days._

_Why does my coffee table require glue therapy from Edward?_

I was puzzled, but didn't want to interrupt him yet; I wanted to see this play out.

"Okay, thank you for that, I just had to ask." I shuffled my tennis shoe against the rug, hoping he wouldn't dig too deeply and question me on my reason for asking.

"Now you have to answer the same question. What's your take on dessert?"

"Well, you already know I like muffins and bread-y things. I'm not too big on candy or super duper sweet stuff."

"What would be super duper sweet to you?"

"Uh… hot fudge, on top of ice cream, with other icky sweet sauces. Nothing that's so sweet it makes my teeth hurt, or my cheeks protest. You know that stabbing sensation in your jaw when you eat some kinds of candy? I try to avoid that feeling. It's just too much." Without thinking, my hands went to my cheeks to press against my jaw in memory of a run-in with a sour lemon ball.

"That's the best part! Sugar-induced pain, right before the diabetic coma kicks in." I could tell he was kidding by the way he was smirking at me. I walked closer to him and perched on the edge of the couch, looking directly at his handsome face.

"So, how long have you considered me a thoughtful girl with unfathomable depths?"

He pursed his lips while pondering my question. I set the tie and glasses on the coffee table.

_Is it unfair to attack those perfectly kissable lips while he's thinking? What would Laura Wilder do?_

_Uh, she would stuff apples down her top and strut around. Maybe she's not the best inspiration._

_What would Dolly Parton do?_

_She would go sit in his lap._

"I already told you that I was impressed with you in my dad's office. There was also that morning when I woke you up too early and you told me to go clean your refrigerator. I didn't think of it in that moment, but later that night I had a chance to examine your actions. By setting that boundary, you were telling me in your own way that you respected yourself enough to want me to listen to you when you asked something of me. Your willingness to work with me even in the midst of my mistake was intriguing to me. You could have just slammed the door in my face, you know." He took the silver tool device off the coffee table and used some kind of flat metal arm to work the screw holding the knob in place back into a tight position.

_Did he just fix my knob with some groovy tool thing and Elmer's glue? Fuck me! He's MacGuyver._

"I have to admit the thought did cross my mind, but you had me intrigued too! It's really difficult to maintain a mad funk when you come bearing multiple gifts and excessive cuteness. I was confused because you had listened so intently to me the day before, and then you disregarded my request to get some sleep. I was worried that you wouldn't listen the same way as before." He nodded his head, absorbing the information before tightening the screw one last time and closing the drawer. Taking a moment to wipe any excess glue off his hands with a paper towel he had on the table, he used the couch to lever himself back to his feet. I watched as he put the tool back together and in his pocket before walking to the kitchen sink to wash his hands and throw away the paper towel. Walking back around the kitchen counter he was reaching for the glue.

"Leave it, I'll get it later." I walked over to him and looked up into his face, my hands on his cheeks. He blinked down at me, holding still. I saw his eyes darken as he leaned in to me, feeling his long arms wrap around my waist. I kissed him gently, sweetly, enjoying this moment with him. Pulling away slightly, he spoke against my lips.

"What was that for?" I felt the rumble in his chest as he spoke.

"For being wonderful and generous and all sexy with tools and glue." He quirked an eyebrow when I mentioned tools.

"Are you one of those girls who have a thing for a man with a hammer?"

"I might be; I never had the motivation to fantasize that far." He pressed a kiss to my forehead and hugged me tightly and released me slowly.

"I have a question in return for the lovely Ms. Swan," he began, reaching for my jacket from the back of the futon. He slipped it over one of my arms and asked, "When exactly did you decide that I was a sexual genius?"

I stiffened, realizing that Emmett had spilled more than just the information he'd gleaned about Jake. I recovered quickly and mimicked Edward's thinking expression, pursing my own lips. I looked up and thought about my answer. "Probably since that moment outside that bridal shop when you asked permission to hold my hand. That was one of your smartest moves, I must admit." He held the jacket sleeve for my other arm and I shrugged into the garment. I started to pull my hair out from the back, but he took over the task for me, smoothing things out, keeping me from impatiently tugging on the whole mess at once. His hands felt nice against the bare skin on my neck.

"Asking to hold your hand makes me a sexual genius? I'm so confused, Bella." He grabbed his keys and looked skeptically at the loudly-patterned yellow and fuchsia plaid tie and the sunglasses with an iridescent mirrored effect on the lenses.

"I'll explain in just a second, Edward. Before you protest the glasses and tie, however, I want you to know that I was going to get you the full polyester leisure suit for $3.99. I decided to go easy on you and just get the tie and glasses for $1.75. I'm a big spender," I said straight-faced at his bemused expression. "Be very glad I didn't get you that suit. It looked very short in the legs and tight in the _acquaintance_ area, and I didn't want to do that to my new buddy," I explained, glancing down and then back up into his now horrified face. He looked inordinately relieved that I'd had the good sense not to inflict too much retro fashion on him, and reached over to kiss me, accepting the two items without complaint.

"Don't forget the other thing, Bella," he prompted me as we grabbed our keys and his two costuming items. He opened the door and stood on the porch while I locked the deadbolt and the keyed lock in the doorknob. We began the walk down the path towards the street and his car.

"Oh, yeah. Why is asking to hold my hand one of your smartest moves?" I repeated the question for my own benefit, trying to refocus. "Since the moment you spoke to me, you were such a gentleman, so solicitous of my needs, and it was exactly what I didn't expect, and had never experienced. I used to think all of that chivalrous stuff was bullshit. Now I realize how important it was to making me start to trust you. None of the guys I'd come into contact with had asked me what I wanted." He shifted his things into his right hand, so that he could hold mine with his left. "They just kept taking and pushing. It's not that the dipshits didn't open doors for me. Both Tyler and Mike opened several doors for me. It was the way that they did it that made my skin crawl."

He turned his head to take in my expression and his hand tightened around mine for a moment before relaxing again. I continued with my explanation." It was almost as if Mike was more proud of himself for remembering to open the door than actually being present with me. He would help me out of the car with a smirk on his face. It was a totally slimy turn-off. You were never like that, ever. You are the antithesis to sliminess."

"I'm going to have a custom license plate frame with that motto," he mused, grinning a little. "Edward Masen – slime deterrent."

I laughed and bumped my shoulder into his as we walked along. We were only a few steps away from his car. He hit the button on his key fob, and the lights flashed once.

"So you see, every single one of those small things that you did told me that you were not trying to take advantage of me. Taking the slow, respectful route was actually the smartest way to work with me. And that makes you a sexual genius. I don't really think that it was planned on your part. Was it?" I looked at him expectantly.

He opened the car door for me, thinking about his answer. After a moment or two, he handed me the sunglasses and tie before walking around to his own door. Settling into the driver's seat, he answered.

"I used to watch my dad do those things for my mom when I was very little. I even tried to open the door for my mother Elizabeth a few times when I was just a pipsqueak. My father had to help me. I guess he praised me for having good instincts, and must have allowed me to help him open doors from then on. Later, at age ten, he told me about all the little things a man should learn how to do without being asked. When I came to live with Carlisle and Esme, Carlisle lived by the same code of male behavior. It's just the way all of us function. Esme was really good at waiting patiently if we got too involved in horsing around to open a door or help a lady with her coat. She would just stand there silently until we realized we were being morons. So, according to you, I owe my wooing skills to my parents. I was not expecting those little things to matter as you've explained. I don't really think about it; it's second nature to me." He shrugged a little.

"Don't you see, Edward? You never would have had a chance to even kiss my forehead if you hadn't paved the way with all of those small acts of consideration. I'm not saying your other skills are unimportant," I asserted, knowing this would likely make me blush. "I'm just saying those other skills are moot if you can't show a woman your trustworthiness."

We both fastened seatbelts and he slipped the key into the ignition to start the car.

"Trustworthiness, hmmm? I'm so not trustworthy, Bella. I was fantasizing about you the whole first night after we met," he admitted with a crooked grin and hands firmly on the steering wheel. He pulled into traffic and made a turn at the next intersection.

"At least you could restrain yourself in front of me. Some boys can't even go that far, Edward." We were waiting at a signal; when the light turned green, he made a left turn onto the freeway ramp.

"Excellent choice of words, Bella. Those were boys, not men. A real man knows how to keep it together, and be a gentleman." He looked over at me, his eyes seeking contact with my own. I held his gaze for a second before taking in the rush of cars heading south on the 405 freeway.

"So how far do we have to go? And, thank you for doing the navigating by the way," I commented, wondering if this would be a long or short drive.

"It's in Redondo Beach, about half the distance of our Buena Park drive. We should be there in less than an hour. Did Alice tell you anything about Sing Sing?" he asked, glancing at me briefly.

"All I know is that they have karaoke," I explained, using Alice's words from her text message.

"Earlier this week, I was curious about the place, never having been there. The website was rather interesting. The gallery page showed a large stage with two pianos facing each other, and women's undergarments decorating some kind of latticework against the wall." He looked over at me, a wry grin on his face.

"Women's undergarments? Like bras and stuff?" I inquired, wondering what kind of place had brassieres draped everywhere.

"I think they do bachelorette parties on Saturdays and Sundays. Thursdays and Fridays are usually focused on karaoke in the other corner of the room. I just hope we don't have a hard time getting a table for all of us."

"Knowing Alice, she probably knows the phone receptionist's first name by now, and managed to get us a reservation – even if they don't do reservations. Oh! We forgot to swing by your place and let you get changed. Is that okay? I should have remembered to say something, darn it."

"It's okay. I remembered when we first got on the freeway. I'm perfectly comfortable. It's not like I've been laying brick all day or anything." He was wearing a simple white button down shirt and blue jeans. All he had to do was slip on the tie over his shirt and pop on the sunglasses.

"Do you know how to lay brick? I mean, have you ever done that before?"

"Actually, yes I have. Would you like me to build you a retaining wall?" he asked with a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

The absurdity of his question, when I didn't own even one speck of dirt on even the teeniest plot of land made me smile. "Edward! I don't have anything to retain! Were you sold into indentured servitude to a construction boss or something? What other skills do you have that I don't know about?"

"It was close to indentured servitude, but I wasn't working to buy back my ownership – nothing so dramatic. I earned several contractor's licenses before I started on my undergrad work. That's why I'm older than the average college senior. I didn't start college until I was 23. Now I'm trying to finish early and get it over with."

"How can you be a senior in only three years? Did you seduce the dean?" My mind struggled to come up with a way to complete that many units in such a short time frame.

_He doesn't have to clock twenty to forty hours a week, Bella. You can get amazing things done when work doesn't occupy so much of your time._

"I tried to, but she was too busy accepting bribes from gunrunners and drug lords," he returned, rolling his eyes at me. "I had AP credits for some of the lower division GE units, and I've taken an extra class here and there; done a summer term or two. I'm eager to finish and start applying what I know."

"So what was that like? Is it the kind of thing where you apply to construction worker's school, or is it something you do on your own?" He laughed softly when I said 'construction worker's school' and answered me carefully, making sure that I understood.

"There actually are schools out there to help you pass whatever license you're looking for. I didn't go strictly to one of those schools. I did something rather unorthodox. I followed all the rules, but I went about it in an unusual way."

"Now I'm really curious," I admitted openly.

"Construction is very much a 'learn by doing' kind of trade. Many of the men I worked with started in their teens learning along side fathers or uncles. I didn't have that sort of connection to give me experience. I also didn't want to have to work my way up from grunt-boy to _possibly_ earning the privilege of laying tile. If you don't get the right kind of help, you can waste years with someone who just wants a strong back."

"So what did you do?" He was pulling me into the story, doing a good job at giving just enough information to leave me mystified.

"I made a lot of phone calls to find out what were the most reputable construction businesses in the Los Angeles area. I started by calling city hall. They provided me with a list of businesses that had passed the stringent rules for county contracts. I wanted to work with a company that not only knew the rules, but followed them strictly. Determined to speak with the best person, I was willing to wait to get the right contact. The plan was to offer myself as a grunt worker for no pay."

"No pay? Back breaking work for nothing?" My voice held a good deal of shock as I could not imagine working so hard for no monetary reward.

"I was willing to do that, but it didn't entirely work out that way."

"So you did get paid?"

"You're very inquisitive about this," he said, his brow wrinkling a little.

"I'm very inquisitive about _you_. If some guy at the grocery store told me all this, I would back away slowly." I wanted to know everything about him – what made him excited, or motivated, or sad, as well as what his dreams were. He smiled and glanced over at me before continuing.

"It was back breaking work that enabled me to learn all the ins and outs of several trades - which in turn helped me to pass several contracting license exams. Not many people will take on someone who has zero experience. Very few workers are also willing to offer themselves up as free labor for as long as it takes to learn something. I would essentially slow them down and make mistakes. A smart boss doesn't put a greenhorn on structural beams without supervision. I had a shadow worker guiding and following me for the first three weeks on every new rotation I started. My boss decided he couldn't take advantage of me, however. I received a paycheck as soon as my shadow said I was pulling weight like any experienced worker. It was a signal that I was doing well if the boss handed me

an envelope along with everyone else."

_How humbling to be the novice around a bunch of experts. He is such an extraordinary human being._

"How many construction bosses did you speak to before you found the right person willing to work with you?"

"Three," he answered simply.

"How did you get him to say yes?" I asked, wanting a glimpse into his skills at negotiation.

"I was very persuasive, Bella."

"Persuasive how?"

_Am I being too nosy?_

_No, he would ask you questions about anything he found interesting._

_It's almost like he's bashful to speak of this. I have to figure this out!_

"Well, my arguments with Mr. Garrett were that he would gain free labor; he would have a dependable worker willing to learn without complaining; and he would be doing something good for the community – giving back as someone had once done for him."

I looked at his profile as he spoke, the muscles in his neck moving as he pronounced each word. He glanced over, sensing my perusal.

_Remind me not to get into a debate with him. His skills at persuasion are too accomplished. He could probably convince me that the moon is made of Velveeta cheese and that Saturn's rings are composed entirely of hickory smoked bacon._

"It also helped that he had three daughters and no sons. I learned after getting to know him that he wanted to pass down some of his wisdom, but none of his girls were interested in construction. He gave me a two week trial to prove my worthiness. I've never worked so hard in my life. I think I was doing fourteen hour days. I was tired all the time, but he eased up once he saw how serious I was." He grimaced a little in memory of those two weeks.

"He didn't know you at all? How did you even get these men to talk to you? It sounds like a boy's club."

"It was. They'd ask you a trick question to get you to trap yourself into admitting your lack of knowledge. The first contractor, Marcus, rejected the idea outright and wouldn't be bothered. The second guy, Caius, was open to the idea of free labor – I spent a week working with him, but he never agreed to the rotation plan I presented. I decided to keep looking. I found a man named Alistair Garrett. I quickly learned that the woman running his office knew everything. I sent her flowers as a thank you for taking my bizarre phone call. The next time I phoned, she told me his favorite brand of whiskey – that gift got me a three minute conversation with the boss, which lead to a lunch meeting. So, I guess it was a bouquet of yellow roses, a bottle of Gentlemen's Jack and the tab for a luncheon that enabled me to get the apprenticeship that I wanted."

_Who knew flowers and booze could get you a leg in the door?_

_He had to work really hard too, Bella. It's not like he bought his way through the whole process. He just had to grease the wheels a little, get them to remember his name and face – give him a chance._

_That actually makes him really smart – knowing how to get his foot in the door. Besides, he did the same to me – in a way... _

I smiled at the memory of him showing up early in the morning, bearing his gifts of sturdier door locks and a new porch light.

"So how is that you did all that work in construction, but still started college thinking medicine?"

"Working on the job site is an intensely physical job. I knew that I didn't want to wear out some vital part of me before age forty. All of the experienced men, the older guys, had some kind of chronic ailment – a bad knee, a dislocated shoulder, slipped discs, you name it. They all tried to warn me away from construction. Seeing as how I was able to work without pay for periods of time, they figured I had other options." He removed one hand from the steering wheel to rest it on the gear shift, and I couldn't resist reaching out to take his hand. I looked at his knuckles with new eyes, looking for nicks and scars. His hand was really big in comparison to mine.

_His knuckles are rough, but his fingertips are soft. Fingertips – oh God. Fucking magic sex fingers. Don't blush Bella! He'll know exactly what you're thinking._

He glanced over at my inspection of his knuckles before continuing.

"I had finished the challenge put before me. All of the necessary licenses for construction were mine. I decided to look into medicine and give it a chance before I committed to something so physically taxing. I didn't see that construction experience as wasted time. I enjoyed a lot of it. I was in the academic advisement office working toward changing my major when someone suggested architecture. With my background for building things, it only made sense to get in on the planning and designing side of things."

"I'm very glad you were able to find something you love. I'm a little envious that you have a clear idea of what you want to do after school. I'm not quite so certain if I want to use my degree to teach, or if I want to try to get an internship in publishing or copy editing. I'm leaning toward teaching though." He retrieved his hand to fiddle with the air conditioning before intertwining our fingers again. With a gentle tug, he pulled our entwined hands up to his mouth, and pressed a soft kiss on the back of mine. The small, simple gesture was so loving and so unexpected, it made my brain turn to mush for a moment, and I had to collect myself before I was able to resume my question.

"I'm curious about something. You said there were many different licenses. Which ones did you get and what made you avoid others?"

"I focused on the big things and left the small, detailed work to someone else."

"What's big?" I was puzzled by this. Every job involved in putting a house together seemed big to me.

"I started with general carpentry, framing and structures. I never got into finish carpentry – that takes years of skill; it's too precise for me, too pretty. I did about five months of framing, getting comfortable with the lingo the guys used as well as the terms and building codes in the books I was reading on the weekends. I learned how to make precise cuts and avoid mistakes by being careful, but quick. Plumb, level and square became my mantra during those months. It was repetitive, but rewarding. I did a little bit of roofing, but not enough to get a license in that."

"What other licenses?"

"The one I just described lead to becoming a general building contractor. That was the first test that I passed. I got that one and decided to keep going. I wanted to back up and take a look at foundations. Those first five months, every job I went to, someone else had already laid the foundation – that bugged me. I wanted to understand everything from breaking ground to putting the locks in the doors. I didn't necessarily have to do everything, but I wanted to understand it all."

"I can see how you might feel that way. I guess you have a thirst for knowledge."

"That's a nice way of putting it; Emmett says I'm obsessive about more than just sex."

"Well that's Emmett for you. Anyhow, what was after general contracting and concrete foundations?"

"Plumbing. I think that stuff is the hardest. I spent more time on plumbing than on anything else."

"Why is plumbing so challenging?" I asked, genuinely baffled.

_It's just pipes and fittings and water pressure. Electrical sounds like a nightmare. Plumbing…huh._

"Do you really want to hear about all this? I imagine this conversation as ten different kinds of boring." He glanced over at me, presumably to see if I had tired of his tale.

"I'm not bored in the slightest. Besides, it's all about you, so how could it be boring?"

He sighed and, pulling his hand from mine, scratched his head, still puzzled about my interest. I missed the warm comfort of his hand for that moment. Absorbed by his thoughts, he returned both hands to the steering wheel.

"New construction plumbing is tricky; it takes a while to learn everything. It requires a lot of practice before you can work with any kind of speed. You're in these tight corners working with copper pipe, soldering, and a blowtorch, right next to insulation and wooden beams. I never felt like I had enough hands for plumbing. Three hands would be ideal, but humans only have two."

"So if you need three hands, how do you do it without setting things on fire?" The whole thing sounded terribly nerve-wracking to me.

"Very carefully. You have to set things down on the floor, or wear a tool belt, which is a pain, or use some kind of table. That's why I didn't get fast at that for a long time. I originally thought I'd spend five months on plumbing like I did with framing and concrete. I decided to spend more time on it. I didn't want to just know it; I wanted to be fast at it. That took closer to eight months before I felt confident enough to take the test. I also had to leave the new construction site to pair up with a plumber and work on older structures. That's where it gets even crazier. There are so many fixtures! I began to hate galvanized plumbing. The stuff crumbles in your hands when you're just trying to loosen a fitting. New construction is definitely easier than repair work, in my opinion."

"Why is that?"

"Dealing with people, of course."

"People?"

_Don't you remember working with the public, Bella? People can be ridiculous._

"There are no homeowners yet with new construction unless it's a custom job and not a tract house." He reached up to rub his jaw a little. He had the faintest shadow of stubble around his jaw line.

"How does the homeowner come into play with repair construction? I mean, what kind of stuff do they pull?"

"Some people will tell you the problem; let you explore a little; allow you to write an estimate; accept it; and then let you get to work."

"And others?" I prompted.

"There was this one job for the sweetest older lady. She was a character, but she drove me absolutely mental."

"A sweet old lady drove you crazy? I can't imagine what she did!" I said, snickering a little.

"Well, let me tell you. She had about ten cats with free reign of the house. She was always in some sort of button-up dress thing and slippers. I would look only at her face, the floor or the ceiling. Inevitably, she would call me a 'randy young thing' and accuse me of trying to hit on her. Bella! Stop laughing, she was like seventy-five years old." I had my hand over my mouth, imagining a saucy older woman in a housecoat with ten wild cats.

"What did your plumber boss tell you to say?"

"He told me to just say 'yes ma'am' a lot and to finish as quickly as possible."

"So did you?" I was imagining him, cute as can be, in a tool belt, embarrassed by the attentions of this older lady.

"I would try to, but the woman did nothing to restrain those cats, and would stand in the doorway talking about her boyfriends from bridge and the senior center. She was incessant, and totally oblivious to the fact that I was sprawled out under her powder room sink, trying to do a job. I think she was lonely. She just wanted to talk, and of course I couldn't be disrespectful. One of her cats crawled up onto me while I was lying there. It shocked me a little, and I must have moved or jerked. The cat dug his nails into my chest and then used that grip to launch himself off of me. I hit my head on the drain pipe, and couldn't even curse because Heloise was standing right there blathering on and on about some kind of love triangle. She didn't even stop talking. I finally made something up to give myself a moment of peace so I could finish and get out of there."

I gasped in feigned shock. "You got rid of Heloise? But she's such a dear heart!" I protested, sputtering with laughter. "What did you tell her?"

_Good grief, what on earth did he say? It's making him blush. I have to figure out how to do that to him._

"I told her that water was going to spray everywhere in the next step of the repair." I could tell that there was more to the story, but he wasn't dying to tell me.

"That's it? Is there something else?" I inquired with a grin.

"She said that a little bit of water never hurt her. So I told her that I needed to take off my shirt so that it wouldn't get wet, and she had better leave the room or it wouldn't be proper."

"No way!" I gasped. He nodded, laughing a little at the memory. "You actually said that?"

"I said that while I started to take off my shirt and she got all flustered and started talking to her cats. I quickly closed and locked the door so that I could finish."

I was laughing again at his bizarre predicament when I realized something.

"Edward, don't you understand how that could have gone all wrong?" He looked puzzled like he didn't immediately get my drift. In the next minute he looked scandalized.

"Bella! Heloise was an upright Bible-reading woman. She never would have accosted me in her powder room."

"Edward, you just got done telling me about all of her torrid affairs with the Icy-Hot crew. I don't think her scruples would have suffered. You were lucky." I tried to keep a straight face with that last comment, but I started cracking up again. Within moments, I was all-out laughing. Edward joined me in my mirth, laughing freely. He stopped at the signal before turning onto PCH, and the ocean was there in front of us in all of its glory. The fading sunlight left a kaleidoscope of colors across the clouds scattering over the horizon. The brilliant blue of the water glistened in contrast to the pink, peach and golden colors of the sunset.

"Wow, that's breathtaking," I breathed, no longer laughing.

"Really gorgeous," he commented, agreeing with me.

"I'm so glad we're doing this! I haven't been to the ocean since I first came to California."

"We're almost there. It's only a mile or two down the beach. This right here is Hermosa Beach. Have you ever been?" He turned off the air conditioning and rolled down the windows a little, letting in the fresh, salty air.

"I've been to Huntington at night for a bonfire, but that's it."

"I like Hermosa because it's two destinations in one. They have this little strip of shops, kind of like the Santa Monica Promenade. It's a closed-off street with only foot traffic. There are street vendors on the weekends. It's not as wild as Venice Beach, but fun in its own way. We'll have to go there some time."

_Strolling hand in hand by the ocean with Edward? I'm in._

_Wait. He wants to keep doing stuff with me._

_Yes, Bella! Why is that so hard to understand?_

_I don't know; I have a hard time believing he wants to be with me as much as I want__him._

"I'd love that," I said enthusiastically. "It's a crime to have the ocean so close, and not take advantage of it." He drove south on PCH, and I stared out at the water, catching glimpses of surfers and families as we passed by. A sign for Redondo Beach was visible in the distance. He turned inland for a few blocks, and then we were in a parking lot behind a building decorated with black and white prison stripes on the outside. The windows and front door had bright red awnings with the Sing Sing logo printed in white lettering with a ball and chain hanging off the tail of the g.

_A piano/karaoke bar with a prison motif? Women actually come here? Willingly? This place is an insult to the institution of marriage!_

_No, Bella. They don't come here willingly. Their evil girlfriends drag them here for torture and punishment as repayment for hideous bridesmaid gowns and unending pre-wedding obligations._

_Aha! That's why this place is perfect._

I was actually beginning to get nervous about singing in front of strangers.

_Why did I agree to do this again?_

_It sounded like fun, and you immediately thought of that song._

_Yeah, but now I have to sing it like a love sick puppy, in front of who knows how many people._

"Are you nervous?" I asked as we exited the car.

"Not too bad, how are you doing?" he questioned in return.

"Have you got any valium on you?" I knew that I had a stupid, needy grimace on my face, but there was nothing I could do to smooth things out.

"Bella! Are you really freaking out?" He sounded genuinely concerned.

"I'm just kidding, I've never tried the stuff before. I was prescribed something like that for the panic attacks, but I never used it. The idea of being panicky and loopy at the same time just seemed like a bad idea to me." We crossed the parking lot, wending our way between cars. The lot was nearly full, and it was only ten minutes past seven.

_Apparently Sing Sing karaoke is popular._

_Great! A bigger audience._

_I'll beg Alice to go ahead of me. Once they've made fools of themselves, it shouldn't be so difficult for me to join in the ruckus._

We quickly made our way inside and over to the darkened reception area. I asked if there was a group of four waiting for two more. Edward was squinting, trying to see a familiar face in the dim light. I distractedly noticed the prison memorabilia covering the walls.

"Bella!" I heard a voice from behind me. It was Alice, coming from the direction of the restrooms.

"Hey Ali-Cat," I responded, smiling, and giving her a quick hug. "This is Edward," I said, gesturing towards him. He shook her hand.

"I've really wanted to meet you, seeing how apparently you knew all about my physical appearance and my taste in ice cream," he began with a smile.

"I think you were eating chocolate ice cream in that one," she replied with an answering chuckle.

"She's good," he decided, turning to look at me.

"Of course, I only choose the best," I stated, winking at him. He sucked in a sharp breath, and his eyes twinkled.

_Twinkling eyes. I think he understood what I meant. God, if he keeps that up, I'll be a sodden mess before we even get home._

"Follow me, we already have a table." Alice was walking quickly, easily maneuvering between the tight tables. We trailed her at a much slower pace. She handed me a sticky pad of paper and a pen to write down our song choice for the karaoke attendant. I quickly scratched out the song title and author before handing it back to Alice.

Emmett stood when he saw me approach the table. He was wearing this ridiculous silk shirt in a tiger print. I rolled my eyes.

_Really Emmett? That's all you've got? I'll set Edward up for the three pointer on this one._

I leaned into whisper to Edward, "Honey, does your brother always dress like a gay dance instructor, or is that just for me?"

He looked up, registered Emmett's non-verbal joke at my expense and started laughing. "I'll take care of this one. No charge." His eyes were narrowing a little in amusement.

He leaned in to give his brother that handshake hug thing guys do and asked, "Emmett, my bro! How goes the ballroom dance instruction? I had no idea of your hidden talent." Edward was working valiantly not to smile too big, but I could see he was dying to crack up laughing.

"Dance instruction, my ass, bro. What are you talking about? Just doctoring over here."

"It's the silk shirt. I don't think I've ever seen you wear that print before. It really brings out your eyes." His waggled his brows at his brother. Emmett looked a little chagrined, but took the teasing with ease.

"Stop looking at my eyes! Those are for my woman, you incestuous punk!" They were both laughing at this point, so we sat down. I noticed a gorgeous blonde sitting across from me. She reached out a hand to shake mine.

"You must be Bella. Emmett told me a little about you. I already think I like you. Can I borrow your notebook sometime?"

_Oh geez, she's too nice. I wailed on her husband and she likes me for it._

"I'm a little embarrassed. I went in hoping he wouldn't laugh at me; okay, who are we kidding? I was hoping to kick his butt! There was a small part of me that wished he wouldn't laugh. I would have been the sweetest little angel if he'd not laughed, I swear."

"Laughed at what?" I heard a voice to my left. It was Jasper returning with a few drinks. He set them down for everyone, leaving cocktail napkins in the middle of the table next to a small bowl of peanuts.

"Jasper!" I waited for him to set the drinks down and then gave him a hug. "Long time no see! I keep telling your wife to kidnap you and bring you along to lunch or something."

"No, please, no," he said with convincing desperation. "Don't make me sit through one of those semi-silent girl luncheons ever again. You two are freaky that way. I prefer actual talking, and you always end up throwing food at each other."

_He's right. We become junior high girls when we're together. We should work on that._

_Nah! There's nothing wrong with that. _

"That's all Alice's fault. I only defend myself against pixie attacks. She has wicked aim. It's uncanny."

"Bella! You only ever get what you deserve! And they're not attacks; I'm merely restoring the balance of power. You know better than to mess with me." Alice pulled up a seat next to me. Edward was on my other side next to Emmett. We had a decent table in the middle facing the stage.

_Oh you've got to be kidding me! Who on earth would take a worn out beige bra and throw it on stage? That is just tragically wrong. I can't believe the piano guys put it on the trellis._

_Um, Bella, who would want to be the man who rejects a woman's bra offering? That would be like invoking the wrath of Satan after the fall. He would have to be suicidal to do that. The entire audience of women would boo him._

_Okay, so I'm bothered with my sex. If you're going to scream and get drunk in public, at least wear a pretty bra or keep the thing on. Don't make us look at your worn out elastic and sweat stains… ew._

"Whatcha thinking about, my love?" came a quiet whisper in my ear, and a warm hand on my thigh. I turned to look at Edward, noticing how his term of endearment made my heart speed up, and his touch made my brain melt. I tried to collect myself quickly.

"It's nothing romantic," I explained. "Look at the bras on stage. Some are great. Others are just not suitable for wall art." He glanced up, his gaze taking in the other stage.

"Only a woman would care about that. Guys don't mind. We just like what those things hold. No such thing as an ugly bra. The minute it's off a woman, it's a beautiful thing." He grinned unabashedly, while I was trying to be pissed off at such a blatantly male statement.

_Damn him, he's cracking me up again._

_So shameless. So cute._

"I can't get pissed off at you. I'm honestly trying here, but you're just too…"

"Wonderful?"

"I was going to say genuine, but you're wonderful, too." I smiled at him, but it faltered when I locked eyes with him. A sudden clench shot through my nether regions. He was looking at me like he wanted to get out of the bar and head home. I couldn't stop myself from staring back at him. My eyes dropped down to his mouth.

_Not the lips! Don't look at his mouth, Bella. You're going to get turned on, and you don't have back up underwear._

_That's it! I'm gonna start carrying an extra pair of panties in my purse from now on._

_No way, he'll find out somehow – that would be mortifying._

I lowered my eyes to his adam's apple, and then gave up, looking down at the table.

He put his arm around the back of my chair and turned to listen to the table conversation.

They were discussing the songs they'd chosen.

"We chose a song from the 70's too," I chimed in. Emmett and Rosalie looked at each other trying to figure out what decade their song was from.

"Ours is from the nineties." Rosalie finally said out loud.

"I think Meatloaf was given the song in the 80's but it didn't make it to the studio until his Bat III album." Edward cleared that up quietly.

_Oh my gosh! What was that? That was like encyclopedic musical knowledge. Does he have a photographic memory?_

_That would explain how he passed all those builder's contract licenses like it was nothing. Remembering all of those building codes can't be easy._

_Sheez, he must be smart._

_You think?_

A vision of Edward at his drafting desk with mussed hair and wire-framed glasses was playing havoc with my libido.

_Ack! I can't handle smart Edward. He's so sexy._

_Just accept that you're going to flood your panties some time tonight, Bella. There's no sense in trying to avoid it. You're sitting next to him. He's like crack for your ovaries._

_They start panting whenever he's near._

_Well, I don't have to like it. I used to have control over my broken, useless body._

_Yeah, but isn't a workable, functioning body better?_

_Hell, yes._

_Okay then stop complaining._

_Roger that._

I had missed the conversation that put Rosalie and Emmett on stage first. Emmett was walking away from the table. He was defending himself against something.

"Well, yeah, but whatever I lack in the singing department, I make up for with charisma," he stated with a cocky grin and a total lack of shame.

_Someone must have reminded him that he doesn't sing well._

_This should be interesting._

Rosalie was walking right behind him. He helped her up the steps to the stage and they spoke to the karaoke attendant for a moment before walking over to the microphones. There were two microphone stands, so no one would have to fight for space.

*--*--*--*--*

The introductory strains of "It's All Coming Back to Me, Now" was filling the room and the crowd was still noisily chattering. And then Emmett began to sing. His eyes were closed and he wasn't even looking at the TV teleprompter. It grew silent as he started telling a story in song.

**There were nights when the wind was so cold  
That my body froze in bed if I just listened to it right outside the window.**

His voice was husky and baritone. He was almost on key, but didn't seem to care about his imperfect voice. He was singing with all he had. Rosalie picked up the next verse. She sang quite beautifully, fully on key and with a rich vibrato.

**There were days when the sun was so cruel  
That all the tears turned to dust and I just knew my eyes were drying up forever.**

And then they sang together. Emmett maintained the basic melody and Rosalie harmonized with him. It was tender and sweet, and I covered my mouth in shock. It was such a romantic song to sing in public.

_Wow! I have to give them props for pulling this off. Edward and I just have to ham it up a little bit._

**I finished crying in the instant that you left  
And I can't remember where or when or how  
And I banished every memory you and I have ever made.**

Emmett held those last notes in the stanza like his life depended on it. He was no where near the right key, but he was so loud, and so committed, the crowd began to cheer and holler for him. Rosalie was belting it out with him, not cowed by his enthusiasm at all. Emmett even managed to look sexy in that ridiculous shirt. His arms bunched and shifted as he fisted his hands at the more intense parts. He stood with his feet shoulder distance apart, singing about his aching emotions without a single bit of self-consciousness.

**When you touch me like this (touch me like this)  
And I hold you like that (hold me like that)  
I just had to admit that it's all coming back to me**

_Oh my gosh. You couldn't pay me to sing this song in public! Sheezus I'm blushing empathetically for them._

**When I touch you like this (touch you like this) **

**And I hold you like that (hold you like that) **

**It's so hard to believe but it's all coming back to me**

Emmett looked over at his wife and winked at her while they sang passionately about

each other. They looked like they were having fun, as though the audience didn't exist,

and this was just a fun activity together.

_Learn from this, Bella. The audience doesn't exist. They're just a bunch of warm bodies _

_filling the seats. If they can do this, you can do this._

Emmett and Rosalie continued to sing, bringing the house down at times. I found myself hooting, clapping and hollering when Emmett was yelling, "Baby, Baby" at the top of his lungs. I had to stop cheering to laugh because he was pounding his hands on his thighs when Rosalie looked over at him with a slightly shocked expression on her face as though she didn't know he had it in him. She continued to sing, but looked like she was going to laugh herself. She quickly stared up at the ceiling to get it together. They ended the heartbreaking melody as they'd started it. Emmett's voice got quieter again, and Rosalie followed his words, echoing them elegantly, until the song was over. Everyone clapped and our entire table stood up. Edward stuck two fingers between his lips and let out a really loud whistle. They each took a bow and walked off the stage, looking exhilarated and slightly glad that it was over. Emmett was grinning ear to ear when Rosalie took her seat.

"I'm going for a round at the bar, who's in? What can I get you?" I ordered a fuzzy navel and Edward asked for a rum and coke. Everyone else was still drinking the first round. Emmett looked like he wanted to say something to me, but wouldn't let himself voice the thought. He tightened his lips, looking a little bit frustrated, and then turned to head over to the bar.

_What on earth was that?_

_That had to be a stilted cat joke._

_Think, Bella. Think! You can figure this out. You're good at this interpretation crap._

I mentally reviewed our drink orders.

_Rum and coke, fuzzy navel. Is there a cat joke hidden in there?_

_Fuzzy navel! Maybe he was going to offer to scratch my cat belly._

_No. That's way too suggestive. Emmett would never do that to Edward. At least, I don't think he would._

_Maybe it was a more innocent fur joke._

_Innocent fur joke! Bella, that's a total oxymoron. No such thing as an innocent reference to fur._

I hadn't anticipated how seeing Emmett keep a lid on it would drive me nuts. I almost wanted to release him from the law suit.

_Don't do it, Bella. He will use it for all it's worth. Be strong!_

I decided to play with him a little bit when he returned. He'd earned it with that incredibly uninhibited karaoke performance. He walked back to our table, holding three drinks pressed against each other in his two hands. He only spilled a little. As Emmett walked past my chair, I let him set down the drinks and then spoke to him in a voice that wasn't all that loud.

"Hey Emmett." He looked over at me. I blushed, grinned, and then made myself say it.

"You're the cat's meow, dude. That was great, what you did up there."

He processed what I'd said, and then laughed a little. Then he looked up at me and responded with his trademark cocky attitude.

"Bella, I'm not just the cat's meow, I'm the king of cats."

_Fuck me, he's funny! That was a Shakespeare reference to Mercutio of all characters. Epic win, Emmett._

I leaned back behind Edward. I had to get one more thing in to let him know I'd gotten his reference.

"I never figured you for a sword's men, Emmett. I'm impressed."

"Every man is proud of his sword-wielding abilities," he said with a wink, and I let him turn back to the table. I leaned into whisper to Edward.

"Did you catch all that?"

"Uh huh." He nodded once, with a grin on his face.

"That was a total English lit moment there. What gives?"  
"Emmett did a minor in English Literature when he was at Stanford. And you just made his night by letting him do a cat joke with you. That was very cool of you, Bella." He kissed my forehead, and I hugged him, glad that I was able to fit in with his family so well. I vowed to play 'name that play, verse and line' as much as possible with him. I took a sip of my drink and focused on the stage for a moment. Another act was up. It was actually pretty good. They were three middle aged men singing a Backstreet Boys song. The incongruity of those dignified looking men singing a teen pop song was pretty funny. The audience didn't love them as much as they'd loved Emmett and Rosalie, but at least no one was booing.

I leaned over to Alice. "Are you two up next?"

"We should be. I'm just wondering how long these older guys are going to keep at it. I think the bald one just gave a hip thrust. That was wrong. I can't look." She buried her head in my shoulder and I laughed at her discomfiture.

"That's ageist, Alice. Even older dudes deserve to work the hip flexor muscles."

"Don't even mention the word hip to me. I'm worried someone is going to break one or get a hernia."

I rolled my eyes at her. "You're not nervous, are you?" I asked quickly. Taking a moment to look her over, I noticed she was wearing a yellow button down cotton blouse in a vivid canary tone, knotted at her waist and a pair of white jeans. Glancing over at Jasper, he was wearing the same shade, but in one of those snap button western style shirts with black jeans. Alice had a matching yellow satin ribbon threaded three times through her short hair. The effect was very cheerful and cute.

"I love that color on you, by the way."

"You do? It goes with our song. He found the most ridiculous piece for him and me to do. He's actually more into this than I am! When we were rehearsing, he was being such a goof and cracking me up. I'm only a teeny bit nervous. I want to get it over with so I can laugh about it."

"You want to get it over with? Is it the singing?"

"No, Bella, we did a little choreography too. You'll see." At that moment the announcer called out Alice and Jasper's names. She got up, squeezing my hand before walking over to Jasper. They ascended the stage together. After adjusting the height on Alice's microphone, Jasper dragged the shorter one so that it was right next to his taller one. Someone behind us adjusted the center beam into a yellow filter. Alice and Jasper had very grave expressions as the golden light spread around them. And then the most whimsical music began to play and they both allowed huge grins to fill their faces.

*--*--*--*--*

I couldn't place the music. I'd never heard it before. It was this crazy song about sunshine, and then I understood the yellow shirts. Alice was doing some manic elbow dance while Jasper bent his knees and did some kind of hoe-down move. It was insane. I was laughing so hard to see the two of them so given over to the moment.

**Walkin' in the sunshine, sing a little sunshine song**

**Put a smile upon your face as if there's nothing wrong**

**Think about a good time had a long time ago**

**Think about forgettin' 'bout your worries and your woes**

**Walkin' in the sunshine, sing a sunshine song.**

There was a brief instrumental break in the singing and Jasper did some kind of jumping move and clicked his heels together. Everyone clapped. I was worried I was going to pee myself. Jasper was always so dignified. I'd never seen his silly side before.

_Karaoke rules. I'm having so much fun._

_I hope we do half as well as they've done._

_You'll do fine, Bella. The crowd is nice. Nobody has to be perfect._

I turned my attention back to Alice and Jasper – I actually wanted to try to hear the lyrics.

**La la la la la de oh**

**Whether the weather be rain or snow**

**Look out. Reach out, hand you a cup of gold**

**Walkin' in the sunshine, sing a little sunshine song**

**Put a smile upon your face as if there's nothing wrong**

**Think about a good time had a long time ago**

**Think about forgettin 'bout your worries and your woes**

**Walkin' in the sunshine, sing a little sunshine song**

Alice and Jasper stopped horsing around as the music changed; it was some kind of medley apparently. They huddled around the microphone stands. Alice leaned towards Jasper and fluttered her eyelashes at him melodramatically. He broke character for a moment and chuckled into the mic. His line was next, so he leaned in and let out a very nice tenor voice. She put her hand on his cheek and sang that he was the apple of her eye. He finished out the stanza by singing back to her.

**Your are the sunshine of my life**

**You sure do make a lovely sound**

**You are the apple of my eye**

**That's why I like to stick around**

And then the tempo picked up again and Alice and Jasper were hamming it up on stage.

_Is Jasper for real? He's hitting every mark on the dance moves._

_Oh my gosh, Alice is half a step behind. I think Jasper must have practiced this routine in his sleep he knows it so well._

The music changed again to some kind of Broadway musical number. Every high note ended with Alice and Jasper raising their arms to the heavens like some kind of vaudeville act.

**Sunshine lollipops and rainbows**

**Everything that's wonderful is what I feel when we're together**

**Brighter than a lucky penny Everything that's wonderful is sure to come our way**

'**Cause sunshine's here to stay**

As soon as the music changed again, Alice and Jasper ran to the edge of the stage and started clapping in time with the music. The audience obediently clapped for them if not a little bit off beat. The pair on stage didn't even bother to sing the popular tune to "You Are My Sunshine." They backed up to the only room on stage, linked arms and did some kind of square dance jig, circling each other and kicking legs out in time with the music. Some drunk dude in the audience was bellowing out the words for them as they danced.

_Yeah, that guy is going to get some ribbing from his friends tomorrow for hollering out the words to 'You Are My Sunshine'._

Things were slowing down again and wrapping up. Alice and Jasper were a little out of breath from the aerobic nature of the performance. They lined up at the microphones again and Jasper sang the lyrics sweetly in his own southern twang. Alice echoed him gracefully.

**Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy**

**Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry**

**Sunshine on the water looks so lovely (Oh so lovely)**

**Sunshine always makes me high (Makes me high)**

_I hope that "high" reference is a high on nature._

_Come on, Bella. This song is from the 70's._

_It was another time, and you're not in Sunday school right now – this audience can handle it._

**If I had a tale that I could tell you (Please tell me)**

**I'd tell a tale sure to make you smile**

**If I had a wish that I could wish for you**

**I'd make a wish for sunshine all the while**

And with that, Jasper and Alice each took a grand bow on stage and received their enthusiastic reward from the audience. Our table stood up again. I couldn't resist yelling out a "Whoooo Hoooo, shake it Jasper!" as loudly as I could. Edward raised his eyebrows at me and grabbed his middle as he bent over in laughter. I was yelling, "Go Alice!" at the top of my lungs when a truly unexpected thing happened. Alice walked over to stage left and gestured for the drunk guy to stand up. He hiked up his sagging pants around his middle and took a bow for singing along. He wasn't laughing at all - he really seemed to think he was a vital part of the act. The audience clapped for the drunken guy, too. After the clapping died down, they both took their leave of the stage.

They returned to the table, clearly in thrall to an adrenaline rush. We let them blot their faces with cocktail napkins and catch breaths before we asked any questions.

"How did you picked out the song? I'm dying to know," I asked as soon as they'd had a chance to settle for a moment. Alice answered.

"Actually Jasper found it on the internet. He burned us each a CD so we could sing it on the way to work. Then we'd come home and just practice the dance stuff. We've had a blast this week, kicking it up in socks on the living room rug."

"You must have done the outfits. That is classic Alice," I determined, giving both of them a once-over again.

Emmett chimed in at this point. "Hey, how'd you get the spot light guy to do a yellow filter for you? I want mood lighting next time, too."

Jasper nodded his head as though he was discussing stock options. "Everyone has his price, Emmett. My girl wanted a yellow light, so I bribed him. It was only twenty bucks, well worth the money in my opinion."

Emmett and Rosalie were whispering something to each other. Rosalie was shaking her head in the negative.

"C'mon, babe. You know you want to," he argued back.

"Absolutely not, Emmett. That's the deal. I agreed to do this ridiculous scheme as long as I get to pick the music. We are not doing some 'Baby Makes Three' nonsense next time. I don't care if a co-worker gave you a bunch of CD's. There's no way in hell I'm doing that, pregnant or not."

"Rose!"

"Keep dreaming, Emmett."

He gave up, sensing he was starting to irritate her. Suddenly he spoke again, changing tactics.

"I at least want a song from the seventies. I did that power ballad for you! Let me choose the decade next time."

She didn't answer. Apparently she was contemplating the idea.

_Emmett is from another planet. He's this huge, funny, testosterone filled man-giant who loves to make a fool out of himself for shits and giggles. I thought for sure he would have to be dragged on stage. Instead I see him here in some kind of Brian Boitano silky shirt, totally loving every minute of this._

Edward was trying on the shimmery glasses. I cracked up a little, watching him. The contrast between his handsome face and the God-awful glasses was worth every quarter of those seventy-five cent sunglasses. He took the tie and started flipping and folding it into a knot. I adjusted it minutely, just for the chance to put my hands on his chest.

"You two are so cute together," Alice leaned over, whispering.

The next act on stage was doing some kind of mock stripping challenge taking off layers of clothing to "I'm Too Sexy for My Shirt." The pulsing rhythm was getting the audience involved again. I honestly wanted this act to hurry up and finish, so Edward and I could get ours out of the way. The couple was running out of clothing and the song was almost at an end. A table of people at the back stood up to cheer in support of their performers.

_This is it, Bella! You're up next._

The announcer called our names and we began the walk onto the stage. Edward pulled me close to him and whispered a "you can do it" in my ear as we walked forward. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it in response.

We had only practiced separately, so I was actually curious to hear how my boyfriend could sing.

_You have a boyfriend. That is so rad, Bella._

*--*--*--*--*

We opted to huddle around one microphone rather than use two. The music started, and it actually made me comfortable, at least a little. I'd sung this song so many times, the lyrics were burned into my brain. My only problem would be to avoid singing over Edward. He had to sing first, so I did a little side step dance back and forth and let him have some room. We hadn't done any elaborate choreography. Some swaying and shimmying were more than enough for my two left feet to handle. I didn't want to take a nose-dive off the stage. Edward leaned in to the microphone, using the raspiest Elton John voice he could manage.

_He's good!_

I tried fluttering my eyelashes back at him when I sang the answering lyrics. He smiled at me, pleased with my boldness. He held the microphone when he sang about getting restless, and I shook my head negatively, declaring his character for the world.

**Don't go breaking my heart  
(I couldn't if I tried)  
Uh, Honey if I get restless  
(Baby you're not that kind)**

I thought about all of our adventures together while I sang. Images of us in our apartments, at lunch, and driving together filled my head.

**Don't go breaking my heart  
(You take the weight off me)  
Honey when you knocked on my door  
(Oh, I gave you my key)**

We leaned in together for the chorus. He settled behind me, his hands on my waist, his head tucked down near my shoulder.

**Wooo Hooo**

**Nobody knows it  
When I was down  
(I was your clown)  
Wooo Hooo**

**Nobody knows it  
Right from the start  
(I gave you my heart  
Oh, I gave you my heart)**

To my utter shock and surprise, the audience was clapping when I sang the last two lines about giving him my heart. It filled me with confidence.

**So don't go breaking my heart  
(I won't go breaking your heart)  
Don't go breaking my heart**

During an instrumental flourish in the music, I looked over and Edward was doing some kind of white-man overbite move, bobbing his head in time with the music, and I lost it. I started cracking up, but had to get it together for the next part. He kept going and smiled at me.

**And nobody told us  
(`Cause nobody showed us)  
And now it's up to us babe  
(I think we can make it)**

_Here! We're almost done. Just a little bit more._

I let lose and moved my hips in time with the music, doing a shimmy-shake. Edward shot me an impressed look, and moved right behind me again to wind up the song by swaying us back and forth together in time with the music.

**So don't misunderstand me  
(You put the light in my life)  
You put the sparks to the flame  
(I've got your heart in my sights)**

We ended by singing the chorus, and the music faded away into another round of enthusiastic applause.

_We did it! I can't believe it. That was totally nerve-wracking, but fun._

We each took a bow and shuffled off the stage.

"Okay, who picked your song? Was it Edward? He's the music guru," surmised Emmett when we got back to the table.

"Actually, Bella picked out the song," Edward stated, sounding rather proud of my musical taste.

"Do you listen to oldies, Bella?" asked Rosalie.

"This was a song from my childhood. I think it predates when I was born, but my mom had the album, and used to play it Saturday mornings when I was a kid. I chose it because I already knew the words. This kind of thing makes me a little nervous."

"You did really well, you two," commented Jasper.

Alice looked over at me, winked and stated, "I've taught her well, Jazz. Look at the costuming she pulled together. I'll bet she got that whole ensemble at the vintage store for under twenty dollars."

"Ah, ah, ah, Alice," I bandied back with some glee in my voice. "It was fewer than ten dollars and it was the Goodwill."

"Goodwill! Have I taught you nothing? They don't steam-clean things properly there, Bella. I thought you were listening when I explained the merits of a decent vintage store!"

Alice was ranting and raving, so I tuned her out to glance over at Emmett. He was looking at his brother and then at me. Edward was involved in a side conversation with Jasper and didn't see Emmett's gesture. Emmett caught my eyes again and tapped his temple.

_Oh, the sunglasses. Emmett wants to play with them. Okay._

I nudged Edward and tapped the sunglasses he was still wearing. He looked at me, registered my non-verbal request, and then handed them over, all without breaking his concentration on Jasper's argument on how the Eagles were part country. Edward was already arguing back that the Eagles were road-trip rock and roll, defining a whole new genre, when I passed the glasses down to Emmett.

He slipped the glasses on, trying them out before posing like a narcissistic male model and making kissy faces at Rose. I was laughing at his antics when Alice yelled out my name.

"Bella! You're not even listening to me! There are some garments that just have to be steamed. Pay attention; I'm trying to teach you something. One of these days I'm going to get you to wear raw silk, and you're going to need to know this."

I picked a peanut from the bowl in the center of the table and threw it at her. Jasper immediately took the bowl and placed it far, far away from us, knowing how quickly we would descend into an all-out peanut war within seconds.

I realized that I was smiling like door-to-door salesman after a while.

_Edward has brought so much fun into your life._

_Can you imagine a Friday night without him?_

I realized after a moment that I was praying, bargaining with God.

_Please, Lord, just let me keep him. I will read every 16__th__ century didactic and epistolary novel without ever complaining again. I'll read desert literature by Willa Cather for character building if you just let him be mine. I can't give him up at this point. I'll even take an advanced poetry writing class if you keep me from screwing this up, and you know how I hate writing that drivel. Let me know, God. I'll do anything._

Edward was kissing my neck. "What are you thinking about? You have the most peculiar expression on your face."

"Do you really want to know?" I asked, thinking that admitting this would be tantamount to telling him I loved him.

"I really want to know. You had the most earnest expression on your face there for a moment. The suspense is driving me nuts."

"I was bargaining with God, if you must know."

"Religion? I never would have guessed."

"It wasn't all that religiously noble, Edward. I was doing a selfish prayer. You know, where you ask for something totally without merit for humanity, and merely as a request for yourself."

"So what was it?"

"I was telling God that I would read every punishment novel for the next year and a half without complaining if I just get to keep you."

_There. I'd said it. No going back now._

"Keep me! You think I'm going somewhere?" He put his arm around my shoulders and tugged me as close as possible to him. "Hey, what's a punishment novel?"

"It's something you have to read for class that is the equivalent of pulling a finger nail off and pouring salt on the wound. It's just something torturously bad to read. Everyone has a few. Here, I'll ask Emmett."

"Hey Emmett!" I said, raising my voice to his end of the table. "What's the worst book you ever had to read out of all of your lit classes? A real punishment novel?"

He thought for a minute and then nodded his head.

'The Expedition of Humphrey Clinker' he pronounced confidently. "It was 336 pages of fuck-tarded 17th century balderdash, and my professor had a major jones for that book. Stupidest thing I ever read. It had seventeen pages of scribbling and blank pages in the middle while the protagonist went through a period of self-reflection. I may have burned the thing after graduation. I'm not sure," he said, looking up to remember.

"See? Punishment novel. They really do exist," I said, turning back to Edward.

"And you told God you would read those without complaining if you get to keep me?" he said, an unbelieving smile spreading across his face.

"Of course, Edward," I admitted earnestly. "I would re-read the complete works of Milton for you, and that tome is better off as a door stop. The thing weighs like ten pounds."

Disregarding the public setting and our friends gathered around us, he pulled me onto his lap and kissed me smack on the lips. I was aware that we were putting on a bit of a show, but I was too wrapped up in Edward to care.

"You'll keep me, Bella," he promised quietly, his words a whisper against my lips. "As long as you want to."

Alice, loveable, obnoxious pixie that she was, started a fourth grade, super loud ascending and descending "woo" in honor of our display of PDA. This was payback for sixth grade after she'd gotten her first boyfriend. I'd started a "woo" just like that one when she'd come back from recess holding hands with Jimmy Harrison.

_Oh my gosh! Alice had to wait a really long time to do that woo. I can't even be mad at her; that was the best payback ever._

Edward and I broke apart. He placed one last kiss on my nose before setting me back in my chair. I took a sip of my watered down drink. Suddenly, I really wanted to go home.

"Hey," I whispered over to him. "Are we staying together tonight? I was hoping we could go to my apartment, and I could make you breakfast in the morning."

"Of course we're staying together, Bella. Do you honestly think I would let you go home alone tonight?" He nuzzled my neck with his cold nose, causing shivers up and down my spine.

_Start yawning and acting tired. The adrenaline wore you out, Bella. Implement 'Operation Get Us The Hell Out of Here Now'.  
_I crossed my arms over my chest and yawned loudly, then shifted my hands to rub my eyes. "Whew. It has been a long week with midterms. I'm glad I could blow off some steam with you guys." I may have been trying to get the heck out of there, but I meant what I'd said. It really was a good night.

Rosalie looked rather tired too, so my ploy wasn't entirely a mood killer. Alice, of course, was bouncing up and down like a jack-in-the-box. Jasper was talking her out of trying to persuade everyone to stay longer. He whispered something in her ear, and she colored and shut up, grabbing her things from around her.

"Drinks are on us next time," Edward declared, standing up. "We didn't even get to buy a round. " He left a tip on the table for what I assumed was the cleanup crew. I hadn't even seen a server at our table all night. The place was too packed for good service I guessed. The six of us meandered our ways to the front doors, joking and teasing each other about our musical evening. The hosting attendant called out, "Have a good night!" as we trudged outside.

Alice hopped onto Jasper's back and he ran her into the parking lot and spun around.

Edward and Emmett were mock slap fighting like two fools. I glanced over at Rosalie and rolled my eyes. She smirked back at me as we walked at a slower pace.

"I'm very impressed with the song the two of you did; I don't think I could have pulled that off, Rosalie."

"Emmett makes it easy by taking some of the attention from me. He's such a silly goofball, but he's my silly goofball," she answered, smiling. "You two did very well, too," she stated generously. "That song seemed to work just right." Emmett had stopped slap fighting with his brother to come and pull Rosalie against his side. A pair of long arms slid around my waist, and I felt Edward's warm breath against my neck. He was slightly out of air from horsing around.

Someone started a round of hugs, and I found myself shuffling around to everyone saying goodnight and getting squeezed in return. Emmett lifted me off my toes and kissed the top of my head before handing me back to Edward. We each turned and wandered in the direction of our cars which were on opposing sides of the lot.

I was buckling my seatbelt when I remembered what Edward had said in the piano bar.

_You get to keep him Bella. He's yours, just like you're his._

_I'm going to tell him I love him in the morning._

_Why wait? Tell him now._

_I just can't. I need to sleep on it to gather courage. I'll tell him when I serve him breakfast._

_It's only fitting. You don't go to the trouble of making popovers unless you love the person._

Edward turned to ask me a question. "So did you have a good time? You didn't seem too nervous on stage. I was worried about you there for a minute." He was looking at me carefully, his eyes moving up and down over my face. I looked down at my fingers, unnerved by his scrutiny.

"I think it helped having them go first. I talked myself into it while they were performing." I looked back up at him to say the next part. "I had a great time. Let's go home."

His eyes lit up when I said the word 'home', and he leaned over to kiss me before starting the car.

**A/N:**

**Before I was born, my mother used to make puffy omelets and popovers. It is my goal to order a popover pan from Williams Sonoma and make her recipe. She never made them for me. I was the fifth kid; things simply got too hectic at that point, and now she's passed on. Suffice it to say, popovers have this insane emotional significance to me. When I get my act together and make them, I'll let you know how they go.**

**The story of the meddling but sweet older lady is inspired by my older brother who used to clean residential windows for a living. On almost every house, he used to pray that the husband would be home, and that the wife would be out shopping. The wives always hovered, telling him random crap, or telling him he missed a spot.**

**The books that Emmett and Bella mention are truly awful punishment novels that did not build my character at all – they merely made me wish for a fire pit and lighter fluid.**

**I have gone to a piano bar called Sing Sing in Irvine, California where drunken brides to be did throw their lingerie at two very ribald male piano players. I laughed until my sides hurt that evening. You could make any musical request, and the two very attractive male musicians would sing and play amazingly. I didn't throw any undergarments that night, however.**

**The Shakespeare reference Emmett makes is to **_**Romeo and Juliet**_** (II, iv, 19-26). It would take too long to explain that whole scene, but you can pm me if you would like more information.**

**Reviews are better than Emmett in a tiger print silk shirt.**

**Well maybe not, but it's a close thing;-)**


	19. Of Ducks and Sheep

**A/N: I've been getting several reviews about a line of internal monologue that Edward used in one of the earlier chapters. He refers to his peen as a "rabble- rousing enemy dick." That piece of brilliance as well as too many other suggestions to name here are entirely the brilliance of TwilightMomofTwo who has done all of the initial beta work for the Fan Fiction posts. If you haven't had the opportunity to read Transcendence (a true to canon Edward ****POV expanded version of **_**Eclipse**_** that dovetails beautifully with SM's original work), she has expended great**** energy getting inside Edward's head in order to explain what Bella most likely didn't perceive during **_**Eclipse**_**. Seriously…go read it! **

**Hugs to her and to all of you who have taken the time to chat back and forth with me via reviews or private messaging. Thanks! You've made my summer very enjoyable. Special thanks go out to Kassiah of The Fictionators for giving such a well-written review of FTT. Thanks also to my banner maker annamorphos and blinkie maker/pimp extraordinaire tmedward79**

**Unfortunately, I go back to work this week after a relaxing season of being a house bum. My posts will be slower in frequency as I try to juggle things. Be patient with me as life will sometimes get in the way.**

**There's a discussion thread on Twilighted [dot] net where readers post questions or talk about story stuff, or moan and groan about their day. You can find it under All Human/ Alternate Universe by title. Anything that I neglected to explain thoroughly is detailed over there. I'd love to have you join us for further discussion. ******

From Chapter 18:

Edward turned to ask me a question. "So did you have a good time? You didn't seem too nervous on stage. I was worried about you there for a minute." He was looking at me carefully, his eyes moving up and down over my face. I looked down at my fingers, unnerved by his scrutiny.

"I think it helped having them go first. I talked myself into it while they were performing." I looked back up at him to say the next part. "I had a great time. Let's go home."

His eyes lit up when I said the word 'home', and he leaned over to kiss me before starting the car.

Chapter 19

EPOV

The clock on the dashboard indicated that it was after ten as we sped home on the open freeway. What had taken us nearly an hour during traffic would take only twenty-five minutes now that ten million people weren't trying to scurry around. I chanced a glance at Bella; she was leaning into the headrest, her hands folded in her lap.

_She looks tired. I should make sure she gets to sleep at a decent hour._

_What? No session? Are you crazy? You've waited all week to see her!_

_Yeah, _see her_, not press her for sex stuff when she's clearly exhausted._

"I can't wait to get home and get out of this jumpsuit thing. It was okay for a little while, but this high waist feels odd," she declared into the silence.

"No more retro fashion for you?" I responded with a smile.

"Sometimes it's not retro fashion, I suppose," she began. "Do you ever take everything off at the end of the day and just want to scratch like a fiend? I don't know if it's the clothing or finally being naked, but that's what I'm craving right now – a strip and scratch, followed by a shower and comfy pjs."

"I do know what you mean, and no I don't know why the scratching part feels so good. I'll gladly help you with the places you can't reach, though. I'll do anything to be helpful to my naked woman." I tried to keep a straight face as I looked over at her, but was failing miserably.

_Talking about nakedness is a very good sign, Edward._

_Stop that!_

_What? I didn't bring it up; she did!_

We were fast approaching the exit on the freeway for our part of town. I decelerated at the off ramp and maneuvered my way through the last few turns before I could park on the street near her complex. We gathered our belongings before walking through the courtyard to her unit. Her porch light turned on as we made our approach. She dug in her bag for a moment before locating her keys. Yawning and leaning against the doorframe, she handed me the keys and rubbed her eyes. I dealt with the locks, helped guide her weary being inside, and placed our things on the coffee table. She dropped her bag on the couch and shuffled into the kitchen. I was closing and locking the door when she spoke.

"Do you need some water?" she asked, the glow of the fridge making a halo around her head.

"Sure," I replied, sitting down in the overstuffed chair to heel off my Vans. She walked over, one hand holding out the bottle, the other grasping mine in an attempt to haul me out off the chair. I hurriedly let her pull me along.

"C'mon. It's time to strip and scratch. You can help. Wanna shower together?" I popped the cap on the water and chugged a mouthful, stalling for an answer. I was following her into the bedroom, and she'd already undone the buttons on her jumpsuit and was wiggling out of the white top underneath.

_Shower to get clean or shower to mess around?_

_Why can't it be both?_

_She has one of those tub showers; we'll kill each other if we try anything complicated in there. I'd like to avoid giving her a concussion if possible._

_There's nothing wrong with starting the show in there and finishing the final act in bed._

Capping the bottle of water and placing it on her dresser, I walked over to her, flicking apart the fastening on her pale pink bra, and gently scratching the middle of her back that was most likely hard to reach.

"This a good spot?" I asked, making sure I was where she wanted me. She dropped her head made a sound of pleasure.

"Mmmmm, wow, you're good at this - a little higher. Yeah, right there." I couldn't resist placing a kiss on her shoulder before moving her hair aside and placing a kiss on the nape of her neck.

_She smells divine, as usual. _

"I think the cold water I drank revived me a little," she stated, thinking aloud.

Turning in my arms, her bra tangling around her torso, she tugged herself free and snuggled into my neck. Her small hands slipped around my waist to slide up under the back of my t-shirt.

_Down boy, you still have to make it through getting undressed and getting naked in the shower with her. Calm down!_

I reached back to tug the t-shirt up and over my head, letting the handful of material fall from my hand onto the floor. She wiggled out of the jumpsuit to stand before me in a pair of South Park underpants.

"Bella, is that Cartman on your undies?" I couldn't resist a snicker at her choice in cartoon heroes. I was rubbing a hand up and down her back.

"It could be Stan; I don't know. I think Kenny's on my butt."

"South Park, Bella? I never would have guessed."

_She's always surprising me; I wonder what else she has hiding in that beautiful head._

"What can I say? I have a thing for cynical, profane humor with an underlying sweetness." She stepped forward to undo the buckle on my belt and pop the first button on my jeans. "Do you have a problem with cartoon boys on my lady parts, Edward?" Her voice was husky, her eyes were gazing into mine, and her hands were resting on the two flaps of my jeans.

_Fuck that's hot. And no I don't have a problem with fictional boys on your butt. I do have a problem with the fit on these jeans, so keep unbuttoning, my love._

All this discussion of her sweetly rounded hindquarters was causing my hands to reach around to take those temping curves into my palms. I brought her in towards me. Her hands ceased their movement on my button fly. She got very still and seemed to be thinking about something intently. I couldn't see her face though because her head was down.

_Your hands Edward! __Fucking amazing! You know that's one of her trigger spots and you still grabbed her ass. Where is your head? You dumb shit, are you thinking with the one in your pants?_

Rather than jerk my hands away, I slowly moved them back up her back, hoping I hadn't spun her into a full-on flashback. I ducked my head down slightly to try to get a look at her face without moving her. Her eyes were tightly closed and her neck muscles looked really tense.

"Bella? I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking right, and we were being playful. Please tell me that you're okay?"

"Keep talking to me, alright? This wasn't a bad one – I just slipped out of time for a second."

_Talking? Okay, for a subject…_

_Talk about her undies – Kenny!_

"I honestly don't know why Kenny is my favorite character on South Park. I mean, he dies in every episode, and doesn't say much. He has those bug eyes and that stupid hoodie. What's the appeal? Maybe it's because he is the shy friend, and I can relate to that. Perhaps it's the irreverent way they deal with death – a subject which children don't always know how to approach. So who's your favorite South Park character, hon?" She sniffled and hugged me tightly, her cheek pressed into my chest.

"That's really hard for me to say. Sometimes it's Stan; other times it's Chef, or Cartman. You can't isolate those characters – they feed off of each other. Talking about one of them in abstraction would be taking away part of who they are."

"Who knew a grown-up cartoon with heinously bad language would be so deep?" I asked with a chuckle. I placed a very hesitant hand on the muscle that ran from her shoulder and up her neck. It was firm, but not rock hard. Some of the anxiety was draining out of her body as we talked. "Is there another scratch location that tops your list?" She mumbled something into my chest. I asked her to repeat it.

"The backs of my upper arms," she revealed. I quickly got to work scratching there.

"Do you have towels in the bathroom?" I was gently scratching the soft skin while turning her in the direction of the shower. She nodded and walked that way, and I followed her like a very odd scratchy conga line participant. I moved my scratches back to her shoulder blades.

"You're way too good at that. How do you know just how much pressure to use? It's not too deep and not too tickly….just perfect." She opened the large cupboard above the commode and pulled out three fluffy white towels, hanging them haphazardly over the shower bar on the glass door.

I thought for a minute before answering her. "Well, you didn't ask me to itch like crazy and you didn't ask for tickles – that's a totally different kind of request." She turned on the taps to the shower, adjusting the spray to the right temperature.

"You're still not naked, and I need to ditch these undies. Are you ready for wet and naked, Edward?" She asked me this while looking over her shoulder.

_Wet and naked…Shower Bella…This is the incarnation of all of my shower fantasies about her at the same time. Fuck, what exactly are we going to do in there? Am I going to end up losing it all over the shower wall while she tries to hide disappointment? Dammit!_

I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed on my temples. Anxiety was starting to set in, and I sincerely didn't want to have anxiety with her. Anxiety equals stress which equals asshole Edward lashing out.

_Don't yell at her; that always jacks things up. Don't yell._

_Fuck, man. Why are you freaking out? You've done so many things with her already._

_I don't want to fail. Failure sucks._

_Yeah, you suck. You always fuck things up. Why can't you do anything right?_

"Hey," she whispered up to me. She had turned around and was rubbing my arms up and down. "Talk to me, please? What did I say wrong?"

"This has nothing to do with you!" I barked out.

_Shit. You just yelled at her when she was only being considerate. Way to go, asshole._

I was pinching the bridge of my nose when I sensed her take a step back. I opened my eyes. She had crossed her arms over her chest, defensively.

"I think you've got that one wrong, Edward. This has everything to do with me. We're in this together, right? You're not an island, and I'm not going to ignore you. Tell me why you're so angry all the sudden."

"I don't want to fail with you, Bella." I blew out a deep breath. "I just screwed up big time in your bedroom and we weren't even doing anything; being in the shower with you is one of my all-time fantasies; and I don't want to lose control – I think I'd have the least control in there, ever." I still couldn't look at her.

"Edward." She was waiting for me to look at her, and I lifted my eyelids, desperately trying to wipe the embarrassment off my face, and failing miserably. "I'm the one person you _can_ lose control with! You could lose it on every surface in my apartment. Well, maybe not my grandmother's Irish lace tablecloth…" She shook off the contradictory thought. "I don't care about perfect masculine control. I'm committed to helping you get where you want to get, but I don't mind if you stumble along the way. You've been so patient with me! How could I not return the favor? Don't you remember how much I love your body and its responses to me?"

Her eyes were warm and compassionate - molten chocolate brown - and she had placed her hands back on the flaps of my jeans. "Anything that happens with us is a success because we learn how to deal with any eventuality, okay? We don't even have to do sexy stuff in there. We can just get clean and dry each other off. I'll scrub the shampoo into your scalp and give you a head massage. How does that sound?" She was barely done speaking and I had her in a hug-lock, her toes just skimming the linoleum beneath our feet. I began speaking in response, our cheeks touching.

"I'm an ass. This is what happens when I get pissed off at myself. I lash out without even wanting to. I have PTSD of the mouth. I tell myself not to yell at you, and then I do exactly that."

I was hunched over, still hugging her and she kissed my forehead. "Well, that frozen powerless feeling really blows, and I've already forgiven you. I've been known to yell a few crazy things in my day. What do you say to my shower idea?"

"It sounds like the height of bathing happiness. But, how do you intend to reach the top of my head? I'm the jolly green giant, minus the green part." She pursed her lips, thinking.

"I have to go get something. Stay right there. Don't start without me though!" She ducked under my arm turning the corner for the kitchen. Her voice had grown faint on the last part, and I heard a cupboard slam closed. A brief moment later she returned with a plastic Rubbermaid stepstool.

"Instant inches for the vertically challenged," she pronounced with a grin. "Now I can reach your noggin. Just hold onto me so that I don't end up resurfacing the tile with my cheekbone." She stripped off the underwear, grabbed the stepstool, and climbed into the shower, leaving the door open.

_Sweet, heart-shaped ass. Man, I am dead meat._

Not wanting to spend any more time standing like an idiot in these blasted jeans, I finished undoing the button fly and slid the denim down my legs. Mister Friendly of course was already dampening the fabric and surpassing the boundaries of my jockey briefs.

_Thanks, a lot. I really want to walk in there like this._

_Get over yourself._

_She blushes all the time; you have perpetual wood. She likes it – go._

I pulled open the door to the shower and stepped over the rim of the tub and door track. Pulling it closed, I looked over at her. The step stool was tucked out of the way under the tub faucet. She was standing in front of the stool, beneath the shower head wetting her hair. Water was running down her body in rivulets as she moved slightly to take advantage of the angle of the spray. At my approach, she leaned her head forward and opened her eyes. Her glance dipped down before flying back up. She pressed her lips together, but didn't say anything.

"Go ahead and say it, Bella. You know the repressed joke is going to kill you. You might as well get it off your gorgeous chest." She actually tried to look shocked and innocent.

"I didn't say anything! I'm a good girl; I don't crack naked jokes, just construction worker penis jokes." She went back to wetting her hair, seemingly intending to let that comment go.

I rolled my eyes at her as she moved for me to stand under the spray. I let the water deflate my crazy hair, my head tilted back. She had grabbed her bottle of shampoo and squeezed a generous amount into her hand before rubbing it into her scalp.

"So are you going to tell me the joke?"

"Well, since you really seem to want to hear it…" She was being coy now, getting _me _to ask her to tell some silly penis joke at my own expense.

_Crazy woman._

"Bella!" I grabbed her bar of soap and worked up a lather.

"How can you tell if a naked man is a construction worker?"

"Um, I don't know… his penis is wearing a hard hat?" I soaped over my chest and shoulders.

She laughed and scrambled to keep shampoo out of her eyes. Eyes closed, she held her hands toward the spray. I helped her rinse them off, and she moved the suds back up her forehead to her hairline.

"No, but that's good. I'm going to steal that, okay?" We both chuckled at the silliness. "I was going to say that you can tell a naked man is a construction worker when his peen immediately begins inspecting the ceiling for drywall cracks. See? He's already looking straight up." She gestured down and looked back up at me a wicked grin on her cute face.

_Penis jokes, huh? Two can play at this game, missy._

"Oh, you think your acquaintance here is excited by his prospect of the ceiling?" I arranged my face into an expression of thoughtful contemplation. "No, you see, a construction peen is actually very excited by white subway tile and matching grout. See the nice even lines? And the precision cuts in the corner? Good workmanship is always exciting."

"Sure, Edward, sure," she soothed with sexy confidence in her voice. "You ready for me to do the scratchy shampoo thing on your head?"

"Okay. Where do you want me?"

"Switch places with me. Can you grab the step stool and put it right in front of you?"

"Sure thing." I reached behind me for the stool and placed it at my feet.

_Fucking rosebud nipples will be ten inches higher than usual. You latch onto one of those and she'll lose her balance. Don't even think about it._

_Just a sip! A taste to say hello. It's only polite –they're pointing at me._

_Count the fucking subway tiles or something, Edward._

"I hope you don't mind smelling like Sheer Freesia Shampoo." Testing the sturdiness of the wet stepstool, she placed one foot on the treaded surface. I braced her waist while she got her balance. She placed both hands on my shoulders for a moment before reaching for the shampoo bottle. Squeezing out a small portion, she set it back on the windowsill.

"Darn! I was hoping you had Sunshine Daisy fragrance," I said with false dismay.

"Sunshine Daisy, huh? I would have figured you more for Citrus Basil or Lemongrass Sage. Besides, Bath and Body works doesn't have that scent, dear." She rubbed her hands together and then massaged the soap into my scalp. Her hands were gentle, but she used her nails to work the suds in deeply. It was heaven. I closed my eyes for a minute, and let her hands lull me into near complete relaxation. A moan escaped my lips. Her fingers felt so good. She was rubbing and scratching around my ears and the back of my neck.

_You had anxiety about this? Are you fucking nuts? She can haul your ass into the shower any day._

_Okay, so I keep forgetting that we're in this together. Why do I continue to do that?_

_No answer comes to mind. How about this – when was the last time you relied on someone other than yourself?_

_Yep, that would be never, at least in a sexual capacity. I go to family with problems, but even that is limited in its own way._

She finished rubbing and swooshing the suds through my hair. "Okay, you can rinse now." She hopped off and reached down to grab the step stool, shaking off the excess water before opening the glass door and setting it on the floor and closing the glass panel again. "Do you use conditioner?"

"Don't need it. Hair's not long enough to get tangled, and skipping that is one benefit of being a dude." I finished rinsing all of the shampoo out of my hair and watched while she used what seemed like handfuls of conditioner.

"Wow, you use a lot of that stuff. How come so much?" I asked, noticing she had the jumbo bottle of conditioner and a normal sized shampoo.

"Well, the ends of your hair are pretty much dead, right? This puts the moisture back in, and I just have a great deal of long hair. Would you like to clean out the shower drain for me?" She smirked, her lips twisting up as she looked from under her lashes.

"Disgusting as it sounds, I would gladly clean drains for you, Bella…vanquish spiders, ward off boogey-men. Hell, I'd even wear a polyester leisure suit if you want me to."

"Hair-monsters, spiders and torture fashion, huh? You sound like a very committed man. Can you turn the water entirely to cold for me?"

_Cold water? She'll turn blue. What's this all about?_

We switched places, yet again. Tilting her head back, she allowed the cold water to stream down the length of her hair. She shivered and her body turned into one giant goose bump, nipples included. I was watching as she manipulated the strands into coming clean. Her hands bunched and squeezed the mass of hair until the water ran clear. She stepped out of the spray and squeezed the last drops of water from her hair before turning the cold tap to off.

Opening the glass door, I reached around to grab one of the towels for her. She bent over and wrapped her head into a turban. Stepping over the tub wall again, I grabbed one of the towels for myself. Drying off, I walked back into her bedroom, towel wrapped around my waist. "Do you happen to have a Q-tip?" I asked, raising my voice slightly. I heard a cupboard open and close again, and she trudged back in holding out a swab, also wrapped in a towel. "Why the cold water, Bella? That looked a little masochistic."

"Blame Alice. She kept hassling me to wash my hair in warm and rinse the conditioner out in cold. I started doing it just to get her off my back. Don't tell her this, but it does make a difference. The cold water doesn't melt the emollients out of the conditioner like hot water does. I figure if I'm going to use that much conditioner some of it might as well stay in my hair. It took some getting used to at first, but now it's no big deal." We both wandered around her bedroom, using the towels to dry off the excess water.

"Do you want to sleep commando, or should I try to rustle up something for you to wear?"

"You actually think you can find something long enough for me? I don't need a shirt…Bella, I'm like three times your size."

"I didn't say it would be long enough, but I have sleep pants with draw strings and stretchy fabric. I also like them really loose, so you're in luck." She went rummaging in her closet, moving things around on the shelves. "Do you have any political objections to sheep? Being a cowboy and all, I know cattlemen have had turf wars over pigs and sheep." She turned from the closet holding a pair of sleep pants printed with numbered sheep jumping over grassy hurdles. They were somewhat long and looked very comfortable.

"Hand 'em over, Bo Peep," I offered, hoping no one could ever get a photo of me wearing them. They didn't make it to my ankles – I was definitely sporting some hairy calf, but the fabric did stretch and the waistband actually fit.

"I need to comb the tangles out of my hair and try to dry it a little bit. I'll be just a few minutes. Feel free to snoop around or watch TV." She was already walking back into the bathroom. It was quiet for a few minutes and then I heard the low hum of a blow dryer. I was perusing her book selection when she returned with almost dry hair.

"I don't know why I had you put those on, I'm just going to get you out of them again," she surmised, head tilted to the side and a hand on her cheek. "So, I did something for us today…Would you like to know about my standing in line when I am philosophically opposed to standing in lines?" She had slipped on a set of pale blue pjs with menswear tailoring. I didn't get much of a glimpse of her changing.

_What can I do to get her to parade around naked? I'm all in favor of that._

_Guy pajamas! What am I doing in sheep then?_

I looked at what she was wearing. The lines hugged her body far too closely to ever hope of fitting me. She was looking at me expectantly. I replayed my auditory memory for a moment and then answered.

"You can tell me anything as long as we're horizontal on your bed. I'm going through cuddle withdrawals." She quirked an eyebrow when I said that, but started punching pillows and getting cozy. Her sheets were a tangled mess, so I dragged the comforter back onto the bed and straightened things before falling into a pillow, facing her. "You stood in line? For me! I'm the luckiest guy ever!" I fluttered my eyelashes at her like a total fool. "So what did all that standing get you?"

"Around eighty-four little pink pills complete with this handsome carrying case….ooooohhhh, ahhhhh!" She pantomimed hand modeling something that wasn't in her palm.

_Pink pills, carrying case. Birth control?_

_Duh, Edward. She's using silly infomercial humor to tell you she's on the pill now._

"You didn't have to do that, Bella, I still intend to use a condom when we get there." Her hands dropped from the pantomiming position back onto the bed. She looked confused. Then her brow wrinkled and she started talking a mile a minute. My head was spinning within seconds.

"But, what about the barn door? And the weather stripping? I've heard they break, you know, and what about bareback? I'm sure latex is sexy as hell, but wouldn't you be willing to? I mean with a clean bill of health and all…Personally I want that damn barn door sealed shut!"

"Bella, Bella, slow down. I'm a bit lost – I heard the sounds coming out of your mouth, but I didn't comprehend half of what you said. Why are we in a barn with bareback latex? Is that a brand I've never heard of? Can you repeat it all - one thing at a time?"

She was talking now, so I made a concerted effort to listen carefully.

"You know that saying, "It would be like closing the barn door after the horse has already bolted?"

"Bella, tell me that your uterus is not a barn in this scenario and my swimmers are not the horse. Who comes up with this stuff? It's offensive to use barnyard animals in relation to sex. That one is just as bad as the whole milk for free thing." She continued with her idea as though she was worried she'd be distracted by my opinions.

"Well I don't want to simply close the barn door with a condom Edward. I want to nail the thing shut. Put up some weather-stripping, maybe an extra bolt or two. Trapping you into being with me because of a baby is my worst nightmare come true. Not the baby part, I'm sure it would be cute, though highly inconvenient right now. No-the trapping part would suck. I'm greedy enough to want to be with you the right way, much later." She looked over at me, her eyes beseeching and earnest. I couldn't help but tug her body closer to mine as I voiced my thoughts.

"I have no objection to you being on the pill, that's not even my place to object. It's your body and all that. I think the condom is a good idea, though – that part is my body, so I get to chose, if we're using the same set of rules. And if we were to get pregnant, we would simply make things a civil finality to match our biological reality. We would get married, Bella. I wouldn't really want to argue about that."

"Married! Whoa there. Married? I'm not going to let myself freak out about that because we're not pregnant, and my brain's just not prepared to think about that sort of thing yet." If she were a cartoon character there would be birdies circling her head. The girl looked seriously flummoxed.

_She thinks I would feel trapped if we got accidentally pregnant?_

_Sure, it would speed things up, but trapped?_

_I wonder what our baby would look like, anyhow._

I was playing with the image of a girl with rust-colored hair and brown eyes or a mischievous boy with brown hair and green eyes when she spoke.

"What? Every time I think you're going to give me a predictable guy-response, you come up with something that knocks me on my butt!"

"Love, you're already lying down," I countered with some amusement in my voice.

She huffed. "Edward, if I were standing right now! You have no idea!"

She was lying on her side, facing me, and I couldn't resist gently moving her onto her back and rubbing my nose up and down her neck while I spoke. I could feel her shiver in response.

"You want to know how not trapped I'm feeling, Bella?"

"Go ahead, but I still want to know what the deal is with the latex, Edward."

"Latex in a minute." I had moved up to the soft skin under her ear. Now that I knew what I was smelling it was easier to place the aroma – almost like sweet freesia mixed with her own warm vanilla smell. "Okay, here's what I was thinking. If my marauding swimmers stormed your uterine castle would the resulting ankle biter have brown hair and green eyes or reddish hair and brown eyes?"

"Edward! Ankle biter? I'm not giving birth to a fucking terrier, for cripe's sake!" She looked rather shocked at my inner thoughts. Her mouth was opening as though she intended to speak, and then she would snap it shut, her brow wrinkling in confusion. After several of these non-communicative false starts she squeaked out, "Really? That's what you were thinking? The idea doesn't make you freak out or break into a cold sweat?"

"Not really. However, this discussion is moot given we're not going to have sex for a couple of months yet." With that statement reaching her ears, she sat up in bed, her back very straight. My arms felt empty.

"Moot! Months! Shoot, Edward that's a really long time. Are you trying to kill us with sexual frustration?" I sat up now, too.

_It's not like she's giving me blue balls, and I'm not giving her…what's the female equivalent of blue balls? Pink ovaries?_

_Never mind – you're thinking nonsense. Focus._

"Are you sexually frustrated, Bella!?" I couldn't believe that could be a serious concern for her.

_Aren't things going well?_

"Maybe, what if I am? I don't know! I just had it in my mind a little sooner than that."

"How soon?" I tried to disguise it, but my voice was wary.

"A month."

_Fucking impossible. There's no way I'll work up to five minutes of withholding by then. Hell I'd rather get to ten minutes, and I have no idea how long that would take._

"Three months, minimum."

_That sounds perfectly reasonable to me. Where's the fire?_

"Three months?" Her voice sounded incredulous. "That's a whole other season by then! Given in Southern California, that's a difference of like fifteen degrees, but still! If we were in Michigan, that would mean snow! No way, Edward. I'm not waiting until it snows in the Midwest." She glared up at me, utterly frustrated.

_Fuck the Midwest! What the hell is she talking about anyway?_

"What if I need that time?" I sighed and looked down at the bed, not wanting to sound like a needy idiot.

_I really do need this time Bella; please listen to me._

"Edward, you're being unreasonable." Her voice softened and slowed down as she reached out to take my hand. "You don't need that much time. We're already working on things with you. We can still work on your finish time when having actual sex."

"No. I want to resolve the timing thing before having sex."

_There's no way in hell I'm having out of control, awkward sex with you. You'd end up hating me._

"Ugh." She fell back on the bed in frustration and smacked her forehead. "It doesn't have to be perfect! Why can't you accept that? The two of us are so far removed from perfect; the concept is laughable." She gave a dry laugh at the end, but there was very little humor in it.

"I'll give you two months, non-negotiable."

_That's not so bad – it's only eight weeks. Surely she can work with that._

"Little saints on toast points, Edward! Non-negotiable? What the hell is that? This is not a dictatorship! Go fuck a duck! I'm sure the water fowl will be getting more than I will in the near future. Two months, my ass!" She wiggled out of my arms and stumbled onto the floor quite awkwardly. Gathering her balance, she began to pace. She had this tight-lipped, pouty expression on her face. If I wasn't so stunned by her adverse reaction, it would have been cute.

_Fuck! How do I fix this? I sincerely do need more time, but she thinks I'm…? Wait. What does she think? She keeps using the word 'unreasonable'. Doesn't she see that I'm trying to be as reasonable as possible for her benefit?_

"Bella, I'm not asking for this time to torture us. Can't you see that I want to get this right for you? Wait. Where are you going?" Seeing her so close to the bedroom door was bothering me.

_Come back over here, dammit._

"I need a minute. Just – chill here for a few. I'll be back when steam isn't coming out of my ears. I have to figure out who's being an ass." She looked a bit lost, and the anger had left her voice. Her current route took her out of the bedroom and into the living room. I sighed and fell back onto the pillow.

_I hate it when she does that. Can't she just be angry in my arms?_

_Is two months too long? I've waited for what seems like forever to find her. Two months is small in relative terms. Three would be better; it would give us more time to iron out any kinks._

_Hell, there's still stuff we haven't done. Why the rush? I don't get it._

_She wants you Edward. Is that such a terrible thing?_

_No, it's entirely inconceivable and completely undeserved._

_She doesn't think that; she just wants to have sex with her boyfriend – her first successful boyfriend. She excited about being with you, and you totally crushed that by demanding she wait a quarter calendar year to do the deed._

_Am I an ass?_

_Are donkeys stubborn?_

_Yeah, I'm the ass._

_Wait. Was that the front door? Why would she be going outside? It's late and cold and –_

I rolled out of bed and was half way to the door when I remembered to grab my Vans. I fumbled with the locks, realized they weren't fastened, and yanked open the door. Bella was huddled in a jacket staring at the light I'd bought her weeks ago. Her shoulders were hunched and she looked small and upset – not her usual tower of sarcastic confidence.

She huffed out a big sigh. "I'm an ass, Edward."

_What? There's only room for one jackass in this scenario, and that's me._

"I'm going to have to disagree with you, love. You _have_ a beautiful ass, but you are not in fact an ass. I take that job description more often than not." She turned around to face me. The yellow-tinged light from the fixture traced glistening patterns down her tear-streaked face.

"Edward, I disregarded your needs in favor of my own selfish expectations. I became one of those loser boyfriends who pressures his girlfriend before she's ready. Given, I never thought I would be a loser boyfriend in any scenario, and I mean no offense that you have the girlfriend role…I know it's sexist to assign gender in my head, but that's how I was thinking.**"** Her eyes were closed and she was rubbing one of her temples with her fingertips.

"Come inside, it's cold. Why are we out here again?" She looked up at me, sheepishly.

"My apartment is too small. There's nowhere to escape stupid feelings. All I had was the porch, so I stood there staring at the light you bought me, wishing I was half as considerate as you are. You always do the nicest things for me, and I…I'm that selfish jerk of a boyfriend from that 'Party of Five' show from the nineties." Her voice sounded disgusted, and desolate. I gathered her against my chest and pushed the door open further, pulling her back inside the apartment. I dropped the shoes I hadn't put on by the couch. She closed and locked the door and we walked back toward the bedroom.

"If you're the loser boyfriend, then I'm the dream squasher. You were all excited to tell me about getting birth control, and I didn't get your enthusiasm. All I could do was think about what I need – my own anxiety. I totally rained all over your parade, Bella."

"Well, when you put it that way…Yeah, you totally are the ass." She smirked at me, spanked my butt, and ran into the bedroom. I heard her voice hollering from her room as I made my way towards her. "You can't get mad at me for the spanking thing, Edward. I believe you told me to spank you when we were at the chicken place. I'm just cashing in on that at a later date." She was sitting on the edge of her bed, legs crossed. Arms folded, she waited for my response with one leg bobbing up and down. I gently moved her back to recline on the bed. I was lying beside her, one arm propping up my head as I spoke.

"I believe you've made a clerical error, Ms. Senior VP of sexual relations." Her eyes were glittering up at me, filled with restrained laughter. "The aforementioned slap was applicable for a one time only offering _with my hand, not my ass_. Ass slaps are only used in dire circumstances. This little spat was not dire, by any means." She leaned up on her elbows her expression contrite.

"Edward. Things got ugly. I believe I told you to fuck a duck. That is just unkind - I shouldn't have said that; you just made me so mad when you sounded all Donald Trump in there."

"Speaking of ducks…" Her eyes widened and she sank back onto the bed, looking distressed. I couldn't resist grinning before I arranged my features into a contemplative expression.

"No way, Edward! You'll make me wet my pants! Don't go there!"

"What kind of duck, Bella? Would it be one of those pretty white ones with a yellow bill and bright orange feet?" Her face dissolved into uncontrollable laughter when I said the word 'pretty'. I kept going regardless. "Or, perhaps it's one of those muddy brown ones that snags the hot-looking mallard." She was holding her belly and gasping. "Do I pleasure the duck?" She sputtered a few quacking sounds, but was basically rolling around on the bed in a fit. "Or, do I just take my bestial needs and leave in a trail of feathers...Does the duck come back for more?" She raised her eyebrows at that one, looking shocked. I started laughing too, but shook it off and kept going.

"Is it a female duck? Bestiality is one thing, but I refuse to be gay in this scenario. Even I have my personal limits..."

"Stop! Please, stop! It was just an innocent brain blip. I slipped into rhyme okay? Is that such a crime? I don't always think these things through when I say them. It felt good in the moment." She sighed a couple of times getting her breath back. I hugged her close to me and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"I don't get the Donald Trump reference. Is it a real estate tycoon thing, or a reality TV connection?"

"Did you ever watch the commercials for his show a few years back? He was so authoritative with that 'You're Fired' thing. I don't know; you mentioned the phrase 'non-negotiable' and I just felt like you were channeling Trump for a second there. Hey! Does he qualify as an amorous repellent?"

_Only Bella would try to help me come up with images to kill my wood. God, I love her._

I chuckled. "I don't know, but I'll try it out next time and let you know if it works."

She reached up to smooth my hair out of my face. "Well, definitely don't think of it now." Her other hand was moving around my back, scratching lightly over my skin.

"You know, your bed is really quite comfortable when we lie on it the long way. Back to the pillows, you duck pimp. This won't be comfy for long." I waited for the explosion. Surely she wasn't going to let that one go.

"Did you just call me a duck pimp? What the hell?" We settled back into the middle of her bed, totally wrapped around each other. "I told you to go fuck one, I didn't line up a flight of them, help you choose, and then charge a fee. Oh, and Edward? The duck would definitely come back for more. You better steer clear of all poultry. I don't want to have to buy a hunting rifle."

"Can we curtail all discussion of ducks, rifles, birth control, and Donald Trump in favor of making out? My brain is exhausted, but my body still craves you."

"Make out, yes. But we never resolved the 'when to have sex' issue. I don't need a timetable with charts and graphs or anything; I just don't want us to slip into that repeat fight cycle. Fight once, agree to a solution. Doesn't that sound better than pissing each other off over and over again?"

"Well, if fights include makeup sex eventually – we may want to rethink that one," I replied with a very straight face. She lightly punched me in the arm.

"Be serious!"

"Okay, okay. How about this? When I get close enough for you to determine that I would give you great sex the old-fashioned way, then we'll go for it. But, you'll have to wear a nurse's uniform and have a clip board for the evaluations."

"Edward, you could give me great sex the old-fashioned way right now, but I don't want to rush you. And I'm only wearing a nurse's uniform if you wear a hard hat and a tool belt with jeans and no shirt. We can role-play. I'm this hot nurse who just got off her shift, and you're coming over to fix my…"

"Moldy drywall," I supplied.

"Definitely no." She wrinkled her brows and shook her head. "It's not sexy enough."

"Busted water heater?"

"Yeah! And steam is spewing all over the place, so I've stripped down to short shorts and a tank top. Naturally, you do your work shirtless. It's a company requirement on all house calls."

_Don't say anything sassy back, or you'll be doing this verbal dance all night._

Finally despairing of ever getting her to stop talking, I dove in and kissed her. My aim was off; my lips landed against the edge of her mouth. She puckered and turned, lining us up.

"Thank God. I thought I'd never shut up," she mumbled against my lips.

I chuckled and kissed her more intimately, biting gently on her lower lip. She returned the sentiment by nibbling on my upper lip. I hugged her tighter and felt her soft breasts flatten against my chest. She wiggled her hips closer to mine. My hands were on her lower back wanting to stray lower, but knowing it might set her off again held me back.

"I'm going to try to touch your butt. Will the warning help, do you think?"

"We're not standing up right now, so that might make a difference. Go for it."

"Can you look up at me? I want you to focus on where you are." She raised her eyes up to mine and we gazed at each other, neither of us blinking. She bit her lip, clearly waiting for me to make my move

_Just do it, slowly. She knows what's coming._

_I don't want to make her go there, mentally._

"What's the safeword, love?"

"The safeword is custodian, Edward, because you're the custodian of my heart and my body. Go ahead; I don't think I'll freak out." I moved my hands down the few requisite inches, my hands slowly settling on her resilient flesh. We had been holding eye contact all this time, and the smile that spread across her face was brilliant. She winked at me.

_She just fucking used my own wink on me! __Damn, she's__ cute._

Made more assured of myself by her confidence, I pulled her hips into mine. She hooked a leg around me and wiggled, clearly enjoying my hardness pressing into her soft warmth. I pressed my forehead against hers and groaned a little.

_She feels so good; I don't think I will ever tire of being this close to her._

"Edward, if we don't do an NBH soon, I'm going to jump you, and I don't think you want me to start grinding on you. Last time I did that you put the hips on lockdown. Help me wiggle out of this?"

Rather than unbutton the pajama top, she was leaning away to try to free her arms from the sleeves.

"Honey, you're going to get stuck. Let me…your elbows are stuck aren't they? Wait a second, you're going to tear the seams. Or, just go ahead and bust through. That's rather hot, actually." A loud ripping sound broke the silence and the woven cotton of the pajama top was rent in two down the side seam. I pulled the torn fabric away from her body.

"I never really liked that top anyway. The bottoms are much more comfy. Stupid buttons are too big, and they hurt my chest when I'm sleeping." She sounded thoroughly fed up with the pajama top, almost satisfied that she had destroyed it.

_And you wore it anyway? Damn thing should be burned for hurting you._

"Can I tear it some more? Ripping stuff is almost as satisfying as popping bubble wrap."

"Sure. Have at it." Granted permission, I tore the thing from the center back to the hem. The well-worn fabric gave easily. I threw the remains on the floor. Turning back to her, I had to remind myself to breathe. Her long brown hair was swirling down her chest in shining locks revealing and then concealing the pink rosebud of her nipples as she gazed up at me. She blushed prettily at my perusal.

"How did you get to be so pretty? There's nothing artificial about you. I bet you don't have even a hint of makeup on and you look like a brown-haired Venus. No offense to Boticelli, but he really got it all wrong, and I've seen the original in Florence."

"Is that the one where she's sliding onto the sand on this giant seashell? I've always thought the artist was clever for making her hair so long or he would have had to paint her wicked bits too."

"Wicked? How could these be wicked? They're so sweet." With that pronouncement, I leaned down and nuzzled a nipple with my nose, moving a lock of her hair out of the way. "Mmmm, you even smell good. You're all warm and smooth. I bet you taste just as good." Her nipple was pink and puckered before I even took the treat between my lips. I looked up from my position. Her head was thrown back, an intense look of pleasure on her face. One swipe with my tongue and she was pulling me closer. I laved the sweet morsel back and forth with my tongue and lips. Another tug with my mouth and she was pulling me on top of her so she could wrap her legs around me. I rolled with her and braced my weight on my arms.

_Two minutes with her breasts and I'm hard as stone._

I couldn't restrain a little thrust into her willing heat; she was pressing her small heels into my backside.

_You might want to pull back before you start dry humping her, dude._

I went back to her chest and worked on the other nipple. I was sucking on the sweet bud when her hips started a rhythmic rocking against me. I wanted to rock back, but I didn't want to desecrate her sheep pjs. I wasn't on the edge, but I was close – too close for thrusting with clothes on. I tried some visual imagery to tone things down south of the border. Her moans of pleasure rang in the back of my mind as I tried to focus on something other than her.

_Why on earth does Donald Trump insist on swirling that cat tail bullshit on top of his head? He should man-up and shave that crap off. Bald is way better than having a hairstyle that still requires Aqua Net. And Simon Cowell – who is he kidding trying to wear those awful net shirts in public? Even a guy with a ripped chest looks ridiculous wearing a shirt that looks like it came out of a tackle box. Man boobs – gross._

_There. That helped a lot. Didn't kill the wood, but tapered it off enough to get back in the game._

I was kissing my way down her torso. Every brush of my lips against her skin had her stomach muscles contracting in response. Pausing at her hipbone, I couldn't resist sucking on the sweet protrusion of flesh.

"Edward," she gasped, her hips flexing up and down again.

"Mmmmm?" I responded, my lips still busy.

"Please!"

_She's still coherent. Better go back up top for a second._

I had slid down in the bed to reach her belly, so I scooted back up again and rubbed my rough knuckles over her soft nipple; it puckered right back to life. Kissing up and down her neck, I whispered in her ear.

"I know you didn't like the top to this set, but I'm pretty sure I can get you out of the bottoms without destroying them. Are you ready, love?" I pinched her nipple with my thumb and forefinger.

_That's really not fair. You just asked her a question._

"Hunnnnh, pants…gone…good." She ducked inward to burrow against my neck and I felt her hot mouth licking, and biting gently before she latched on to suck. My eyes must have rolled back in my head as I felt a strong feeling of warmth on the sensitive skin. The sensation shot straight to my groin.

_Pull back! Pull back! Girl used to be shy, now she's a hellcat with a Hoover mouth. Don't think about it. Don't think about it._

Too late. An image of Bella's hot mouth sucking on my firm length implanted itself into my brain.

_Fuck. _

Now her head was bobbing up and down.

_Shit. Stop doing this, Edward or you're going to lose it!_

In my fantasy, she was enjoying herself too much to stop, so no matter how many times I asked the dream version of Bella to stop, she kept going, much to my dismay.

"Bella!" The intensity of my voice snapped her out of her arousal-induced daze at my neck. "Fuck, I'm going to… I'm about to lose it. Can you? Ugh. Squeeze for me?" In no time at all, her hand breached the barrier of the pants and found the base of my erection. She applied pressure, firm pressure, and held it there until my raging wood retreated into a dull ache again.

"Are you okay for a second?" she asked me.

"Much better, I just… God, I know it would be okay with you if I lost it, but I really don't want to."

"I know, hon. Don't worry about it. I'm going to get a spare towel and come right back alright?" She left the bed for a second and returned with one of the bath towels. "I've made an executive decision, Edward. We both lose the pants right now. It doesn't matter who gets to go first. I'll do the squeeze method as much as you want, but you don't have to feel anxious if you're going to lose it. I also want to know what pushed you nearly over the edge."

She loosened the drawstring at her waist and slid the pants down. Crawling up the bed from the bottom, she knelt at my knees and began taking off my bottoms as well.

I lifted my hips to assist her, and then we were both naked. She spread the towel out on the bed at hip level and scooted toward the middle, arms open. I was so grateful for her matter of fact acceptance of my less than stellar control that I began scattering kisses all over her.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you for taking such excellent care of me, Bella."

"I'm just returning the favor, Edward. And you missed a spot."

"Where?" I asked with some confusion.

She pointed at her mouth.

"Here." That shy smile was back and I wondered at how she could switch from commanding to shy all within moments. We kissed passionately, tongues engaged in an exploration of warm, wet territory. She pulled back first.

"Can you be really candid with me, Edward? You probably won't want to, but I need your help."

"I can try."

_Shit. She wants to know. How to tell her without sounding like a pig?_

"What did I do that made you get so close to losing it so fast?"

_I can't tell her about the head bobbing thing – that's just too porno to say out loud. She might be offended._

_That's not what she asked for, Edward. She asked for you to be really candid._

"It's rather explicit, Bella. Are you sure you want to know? I'm not dying to tell you because you're going to want to please me even if it's not something you would really want to do."

"Just go back in time a few seconds and start at whatever I did wrong."

"You didn't do anything wrong at all, love. Remember a few minutes ago when you were at my neck?"

"Yes."

"It was the sucking that did me in. You were licking and using your teeth, which is incredibly hot in itself, and then you were sucking on my neck. Do I have a hickey?"

"Oh! Did it hurt? Gosh, I wasn't thinking. I'm so sorry."

"Bella, that's not it. I'm not in any pain." She was inspecting my neck. I turned my head to the side a bit.

"Yeah. I did give you one, it's small and faint, but – yeah."

_She marked me. Fuck-ing A, there's an imprint of her mouth on my neck._

_Do it again._

_Shut the fuck up, and get back on the subject._

"The neck and all that - is not where my mind went. My evil brain honed in on your mouth, love. It was the sucking. Suddenly in my head you were sucking somewhere else, and I, in my mind, couldn't get you to stop. I have these powerful mental images, and they don't always obey my requests, even if I ask nicely."

"Oh! So I was…and you were…Wow. That does sound hot. No wonder you needed help."

"You're not offended?"

"No. I've wanted to do that, but I don't really know how. I was this far away from really researching it on the internet or calling Alice, but I stopped myself after only a few minutes of reading. Last week was too hectic for a two hour BJ tutorial from Alice, because I'm sure she would be thorough, crazy girl that she is. I didn't have the time to devote to it the right way. Would you be adverse to a little experimentation? You could be my guinea pig," she said, laughing a little.

"But we were going to see to your needs, first," I offered. She rolled her eyes at me, looking put out.

"No, _you decided_, being all gentlemanly as you always are, to see to my needs first. My needs aren't as urgent, however. If we tend to you first, then that should give you some relief so that you can tend to me. See? I knew I was smart." She had shifted on the bed into a kneeling position. Slowly, she moved one leg at a time until she was kneeling between my legs.

_Fuck, Fuck, Fuck._

I closed my eyes. The real-life image was too much.

"Bella?"

"Mmm, hmm?"

"How are we going to do this? Last time we just…tried out the method a few times, and then you let me come. Do you want to just get familiar with doing just this, or do you want to make this a session, a therapy session?"

"I want to get familiar with this, but you can ask me to squeeze at any time. Should we keep track of how long you last before you reach the edge?"

"That's exactly what we need to do. The goal is to build up my time to an amount that would be enough for you to orgasm, and then theoretically, I could follow. We need to get me up to at least a good three or four minutes, five would be better in my mind."

"What are you at right now?"

"By myself? That doesn't matter. 'By myself time' is pointless. We didn't time how long the intervals were last time, so I don't know."

"Hey! This is going to sound weird, but I have a stopwatch." She giggled. "Would that help?"

_Stopwatch. Running. Finishing the Race._

Suddenly I was laughing like a hyena at the absurdity of our situation.

"Is that a racing joke? Because if it is, that was too funny." She just snickered at me and got up from the bed again to rummage around in her dresser drawer. She returned holding a small black stopwatch. Climbing over top of me, she looped the cord around her neck and then looked down at herself.

"It's official. I'm your naked sex coach." My erection was standing straight up, not far from her belly.

"What time is it coach? I can't see the bedside clock from here."

"It's after eleven, but it's okay!" she reassured me. "Today is Friday, and we can sleep in tomorrow. I don't have to work in the morning. Besides," she said, gesturing towards my dick. "That – is mine."

"Fair enough. You know? This is better than the naked weather channel. There really should be more scenarios where women do what appear to be mundane tasks completely naked."

She arched an eyebrow and repositioned herself so that she was on her belly between my thighs and her mouth was about three inches from Mister Friendly.

"Mundane tasks, Edward?"

"Fuck, Bella. I can't even look right now. You're a sex goddess." She snickered at my moniker for her, and reached down to touch me gently with her hand.

"I'm going to roll back the…tell me if I hurt you, and what is it called again?"

My dick was throbbing at this point and her cool hands were this insane temperature contrast between fuck-hot and cool. I hissed and tried to answer her.

"Foreskin."

"Oh, yeah, of course."

She gently moved back the sensitive skin to reveal the even more sensitive glans beneath.

"I'm going to try something okay? Don't freak out, or freak out if you need to, but let me know if I should squeeze."

"What are you going to do? Telling me would be better than surprising me."

"I'm going to taste you, Edward. I need to decide if I'm going to try to go modest and pull back or if I'm going to do the full-on porn star thing and swallow. I don't want to reject you and spit you out, but I don't know what this is going to taste like….so you're my guinea pig, remember?"

"Guinea pig, right. Taste away, sex coach."

She licked her lower lip before leaning in again. Her tongue came out and swirled over the dribble of pre-come that had gotten past my control. I hissed again, unable to control the sound from bursting through my lips. The rough rasp of her tongue on my dick made me nearly incoherent.

_Holy shit, that's hot._

"How bad is it?" I ground out, trying to delay her. If I could keep her talking, then perhaps I could last a little longer.

"Well, it's not marshmallow fluff, but it's not too bad. It's a little salty, a little bitter, and warm. It manageable. I could have lied and said you tasted like ambrosia from the gods, but, I don't think you would have appreciated that."

"Ambrosia from the gods? Where on earth did you hear that?"

She was right back at the underside of my shaft, her nose inches away from it. "I did try to read some sexy literature when I was pursuing my own race, so to speak."

"And?"

"The ambrosia thing prompted a question session with Alice and she set me straight. Apparently no one tastes like sunshine and raindrops - whatever that means anyhow. Close your eyes or something, I need to focus here. Let's curtail the questions for a few minutes. I'm already enjoying this."

"Talk to me, Bella. I won't ask questions, but tell me what you're thinking. Oh, and hit the stopwatch before you do anything."

She took a moment to pick up the stopwatch from between her breasts and hit the counter button. The digital clock started counting from zero. She removed it from around her head and placed it on the bed facing her. My eyes closed.

She ran her hands over my belly and hipbones, trailing her fingers through the downy hair on my abdomen. "I'm thinking that you're hot, and hard, and I can see this vein pulsing right here. I think I want to lick it." She ran her agile tongue up the underside of my shaft all the way up to the top. Sweat broke out on my body.

_Fuckerdicker! She's good at this and she hasn't even taken me into –_

_Fuck. She just took me into her mouth. Hot, warm, suction. Shit._

I opened my eyes, using my neck muscles to hold up my head and looked down.

Her head was lightly bobbing up and down, her small hand gripping my penis at the base to keep it steady.

_Déjà vu! She just unknowingly personified my favorite sexual fantasy._

I felt a familiar tightening in my balls. A little bit more of this and I would come too soon. She licked and swirled her tongue around the head for a second before going back to taking as much as she could into her mouth. She tried going down farther before sliding back up. She was on the down stroke when her tongue lingered to rub against the sensitive nerves on the underside of the head.

_Fucking frenulum genius. Shit, shit, shit!_

"Bella, I'm going to…!"

I exited her mouth with a plop and her hand changed from supporting my erection to pressing on it. She held on for what seemed like a full ten seconds before letting go.

"Whew. How long was that?" I moved my head up, watching as she picked up the timer.

"That was about ninety seconds."

"Shit. I might as well go fuck a duck. Those numbers suck." My head fell back onto the pillow.

She started cracking up. After a second she commented on my negativity.

"One little hint of a blow job, and you become Doctor fucking Seuss with an attitude problem. Too funny, Edward."

"Ninety seconds, Bella? C'mon."

"Hey, it's better than forty-five, which is what I'd guesstimate your shower time is."

"Why would you guess that? You've never seen me in the shower."

"Well, the lack of an audience for one. You're more relaxed. You don't care what someone else thinks of you in there. So I cut this time in half. I figure you don't last as long in the shower. This is actually pretty good for a first clock-in. Don't beat yourself up so much. That was also a lot of visual stimulus, too. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to say good job. And you're going to have to accept that."

_Hot damn, she is right. Not that I've ever timed it myself..._

"You're not going to make me say it, are you?"

"No, that's too lame even for me. I'm just going to get busy again."

She resettled herself between my legs.

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

"Uh…how do I touch the other stuff?"

"Other stuff….oh, you mean…" My voice trailed off as I thought about how to answer. "A firm hand is better than being too gentle. Gentle tickles and is distracting. I don't know, try it out. I'll tell you what feels good."

"Thanks." She handed me the stopwatch.

"Set that when you think you should. I'm just going to do my thing."

She was kneeling again, her hands on my thighs. She began by rubbing up and down my upper legs, getting closer and closer to the goal. I felt cool fingers press against my testicles. She was trying out the feel of them. Keeping her hand there, exploring, her mouth dipped down again and engulfed my hardness with wet warmth.

_Set the stopwatch. Fuck that feels good. It's warm and sweet, and it aches in the best possible way._

My thumb hit the button and my eyes closed of their own volition.

The combination of sensations, her firm hand cupping my balls, and her quick little mouth swirling around my shaft was pure, pulse-pounding pleasure.

"Th-that feels really good. Fucking excellent job, love." My voice trailed off into a grunt as I felt a hint of teeth graze the taut skin of my shaft.

She began moving her mouth in measured strokes, her left hand alternately cupping and squeezing lightly on my balls. She was rolling the flesh of my sack between her fingers while she sucked with her mouth. Everything intensified for a moment. My hands fisted, hips jerked, and I couldn't restrain a subtle hip movement.

_Don't fuck her face, man. Keep still._

_She's killing me!_

_No she's not. You're still alive._

_Her mouth is like China White for a heroin addict._

Her fingers dipped lower to the skin beneath the twin globes, exploring. She ran her hands over the coarse flesh, and she pressed firmly on the indentation of skin there, stimulating the gland below the scrotum.

_Fuck! Does she know what she's doing? _

_A few minutes of reading, my ass! She's fucking pressing on my perineum while giving me head. Little minx. I'm going to get her back for this later._

And then all rational thought fled. She was lunging down on me with her mouth, and then retreating all the way off. The soft, wet flesh on the inside of her lips slid down over me, she sucked briefly, and then she slid all the way off. My hips were moving in tandem with her mouth and a rhythm was building. Suddenly she sped up and bobbed her head up and down while suctioning with her whole mouth. The paced picked up. I was already gripping the sheets, my body twisting and my lungs gasping.

"Unnhh, Bella!" Wow, fuck….Goddamn."

The pleasure was curling and deepening inside me. Just when I thought I would lose it all, she backed off and returned to tonguing and licking the underside of the shaft, moving her head sideways in order to wrap her mouth around the shaft. The brief respite allowed my heart rate to slow down again. I took a minute to replace the air in my lungs before I opened my eyes to look at her. She wasn't to be dissuaded from her task. She returned to the rhythmic sucking, her hand covering what her mouth could not accommodate. I watched for a moment and she closed her eyes and seemed to enjoy what she was doing.

_She's fucking into __this - she's__ not even tired, and she likes doing this. Fuck me, that's sexy. I wonder if she's wet._

_Fuck, yes she's wet. Her hardened nipples are rubbing on the sheet as she moves._

She retreated off the shaft and concentrated on the head of my penis for a moment, sucking on the glans and swirling her tongue around the top like an ice cream cone. She caught me looking at her and stared back at me, her tongue growing bolder as she put on a bit of a show.

There was a brief pause as she switched position and lay on me full length, her hands coming under to cup the cheeks of my butt. I was completely under her control now. She began bobbing her head up and down again in a steady rhythm. The combination of her mouth, her hands, her eyes, and the stimulation I'd received thus far was about to push me over the edge.

"Bella! I'm about to…"

She didn't stop, she just kept going. Her sucking intensified as I began to jerk and twist under the control of her hands and mouth.

"Unnnhhh! Fuck! Gah, I can't…"

She pulled off of me at the last second, and my seed spilled out of my body in pulse after pulse of release. She used her fingers in a tight ring to stroke and squeeze every last sensation of well-being from my body. The feelings in my loins were intense as my pulse sped up even more, the muscles in my neck were straining. I was still jerking in the last throws of release, and then the final spurt ran through the shaft and my tense head, which I'd been holding off the pillow, fell back with a thud as a gasping sigh escaped my lips. I was breathing like a runner after a long race, panting really. That replete, ecstatic feeling settled in my whole body.

I couldn't see what she was doing, but her searching hands were pressing around me, trying to find the stopwatch, I assumed. I realized it was still in my right hand. I raised my arm, weakly, to give it to her.

"Just have to…" I took a minute to breathe. "…catch my breath."

"It's perfectly okay, Edward. Just give yourself a minute; I'm going to clean you up a little, okay?"

I lifted my hips, still breathing like a bellows as air gushed in and out of my lungs. She pulled the towel out from under and used it to clean up the moisture on my belly and thighs.

Setting the towel to the side, she pulled her comforter over the two of us and rested her head on my chest.

"What's the stopwatch say?" My lungs were finally cooperating, and I could speak like a normal human being again.

"Almost four minutes." She sounded smug, pleased with herself.

"Really?"

"Yup."

"Damn. We may be having actual sex sooner than I thought."

"Mmm-hmmm," she purred against my chest muscle.

"You can say I told you so if you need to," I stated generously.

"I wouldn't dream of it. We could just set a loftier goal if you still want more time. How about seven minutes?"

"I can't even think about next time. I'm still mentally celebrating right now. Did you know that you're awesome? And what was that with all those fancy moves? Did you already talk to Alice or something? I thought I was your guinea pig, not your sexual captive, woman. Dayum."

Bella giggled. "I told you that I did some reading. I spent maybe half an hour at the computer picking up what I guess are the basics. The thing is, I kept thinking about it all week. I may have built up a routine in my head."

She ducked her face down into my armpit.

_Lord love the woman. She's perfectly fine with sticking her face in what are normally considered the most avoidable parts of the male anatomy._

"Bella, are you doing that hiding thing again?"

"Maybe. Is it working?"

"Well, I can't see your face, but I can feel your blush against my skin. So… how on earth is it that you're embarrassed now? You were a vixen a few minutes ago and now you're doing the armpit retreat again." I couldn't help but laugh at the amazing contrasts that composed this lovely girl at my side.

"I'm replaying what I just did in my head, and I can't believe I pulled it off."

"I know. Way to go, coach."

She yawned. "We should get some rest," she announced in a sleepy voice.

"How tired are you, Bella?"

"Mmm, I could sleep."

"How wet are you, Bella?"

"Edward!"

"Bella?"

"Shit. I knew you were going to want to reciprocate, and I don't; I've never. Ugh… this is so lame."

"Use your words, little girl."

"You suck!"

"I know. Go ahead, tell me."

I've never done lady landscaping before, Edward. I just thought that I would…do that before we did the whole oral sex thing."

"Why have you placed this requirement on yourself?"

"I don't know! It just seems like the thing that's done."

"Done by whom? You know, I'm not Hugh Hefner. I don't have a mandatory muff shave or wax clause before you get admittance to the mansion."

"So you're not Hugh Hefner? Shit! I did all that for a centerfold, you dirty young man. Now I have to go seduce someone else? Gah!" She started to wiggle out of my arms, but I held tight.

"If you want to do…what did you call it…" I chuckled once I remembered. "…lady landscaping at a later date or with me in the shower, or whatever – you can do what feels comfortable to you. Hell, make an appointment to go do that with Alice if you truly want to make your nether regions scream in agony. I guess I won't stand in your way. It _is_ your body. Just don't feel like I'm pressuring you to do anything uncomfortable for some kind of porno stereotype."

"You truly don't mind?"

"Fuck. How could I mind? Are you intending to come at me with cotton strips and hot wax?"

"Hell no."

"Well then, how could I demand that of you? It sounds horribly painful. Have you seen 'The Forty Year Old Virgin' scene where he waxes his chest? Now imagine that kind of pain on your…lady parts."

"Okay, I think you have a point. Perhaps I'll try shaving and see if that feels weird before I try anything else." She sighed and hugged me closer. I could feel her eyelashes tickling my skin.

"Now can I make you babble and scream? I know you're turned on, love. There's no way you could have done what you did and not be. I saw your face – you enjoyed that way too much to be as dry as a desert church mouse."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. Mice go to church…in the desert…and get all dried up? Is the blood still rushing down below because that one was just nuts."

"You don't think rodents can find religion? That's very narrow-minded of you, Bella! Haven't you seen 'An American Tail'? Mice immigrate, and have families, and do all kinds of crazy things. Fivel was my favorite animated character when I was a kid."

"Can you sing all the songs, Edward?" There was some restrained humor in her voice.

"Maybe…I might have a CD of the musical score, but you can't tell Emmett."

_I really don't mind sharing the most embarrassing things with her. She's welcome to almost every secret I have._

"I wouldn't dream of revealing such a thing. I'll take your secret to the grave, unless someone tickles it out of me. At that point, all bets are off."

She had distracted me by latching onto my small comment about how she couldn't possibly be anything but utterly wet for me. I remembered her skillful approach when she had me at her leisure.

_You're not diverting my attention so easily, love._

_I'm sexually obsessed. Sometimes this disorder works to my advantage._

"Shall I go fetch your bottle of water off the dresser, Bella?"

"Sure, but what made you think of that?"

She lifted herself off my chest, allowing me to slide off the bed, walk a few steps and get her bottle of water. Grabbing my own as well, I took a long pull from the bottle before replacing the cap and setting it on the nightstand. Finished as well, she handed her bottle back to me.

"Honestly? I intend to make you use those vocal cords in a few minutes and I thought it would be only kind if I let you have some water first. Do you think your neighbors will mind? I could always send them flowers with an "I'm sorry we were loud" note.

She rolled her eyes at me, and held her arms open. I was more than happy to slip into her embrace.

**AN:**

**I used two websites in reference to a few things in this chapter. **

**The first link is a brief summary of the turf wars in the American Southwest over grazing problems in connection with sheep, cattle, and sometimes even pigs. It makes for interesting trivia, if you don't already know all about it.**

**The second link is just an image of Boticelli's Venus which Edward alludes to in this chapter. I assume you've all seen it, but perhaps the younger readers with less exposure to art might find this one helpful.**

**I have a pair of the counting sheep pajamas, and they are wonderfully comfy. They don't make that print anymore, however. The label is Nick and Nora, which is sold many places including Target.**

**Also: if you've never torn an offending garment off your body and then ripped it to shreds – you seriously need to do that. I assume it's as cathartic as smashing dishes into a brick wall or popping balloons for no reason.**

answers [dot] com [foreword slash] topic [foreword slash] sheep [dash] wars

sbac [dot] edu [forward slash] ~palmergw [forward slash] botticelli [dot] venus [dot] jpg

**Review if you feel the need to share a story or blather on about something.**


	20. Out of Nothing, Love

**A/N: To those of you who have been knocking your brains into the computer screen wondering when either of these two would work up the nerve to say the ILY words out loud…Here you go:--) Sorry it took so long. With shy lovers you can't rush these things.**

**To the other group of you readers who are dying to know when Edward and Bella will have full sex…It's not too far away, I promise. It's definitely not in Edward's time table. Poor man is way too cautious in my opinion.**

From Chapter 19

"Honestly? I intend to make you use those vocal cords in a few minutes and I thought it would be only kind if I let you have some water first. Do you think your neighbors will mind? I could always send them flowers with an "I'm sorry we were loud" note.

She rolled her eyes at me, and held her arms open. I was more than happy to slip into her embrace.

Chapter 20

Out of Nothing - Love

EPOV

**Love**

an abstract noun

Origin predates the twelfth century AD

Middle English from Old English _lufu_;

akin to Old High German _luba_, love; Old English _loef_ meaning dear

and Latin _lubere, _meaning to please

a strong affection for another rising out of kinship or personal ties

attraction based on sexual desire: affection and tenderness felt by lovers

affection based on admiration, benevolence, or common interests

unselfish, loyal, and willing concern for the good of another

warm attachment, enthusiasm, or devotion

the sexual embrace

a beloved person

When love is not madness, it is not love. ~Pedro Calderon de la Barca

Her arms were wrapped around my head; my face was pressed into her breasts, and her legs were entwined around my torso. I felt her wet heat against the sensitive skin of my belly.

_Wouldn't it be nice to move up about four inches, slip inside her eager moisture, and make her scream that way?_

_Of course that would be nice – up until the moment when we both realize I've lasted approximately fourteen seconds._

_You realize you're eventually going to have to bite the bullet and go for it, even if you blow it on entry like a total loser._

"So you're planning to make me scream, huh?" There was a level of wry acceptance in her tone.

"Well, yes, that's the plan. I'm hoping not to let you or myself down. I'm fairly confident I can deliver. You've hollered my name on multiple occasions; I find your volume to be especially necessary at this moment." I was trying to use a matter-of-fact tone for what would be a form of loving sexual revenge for her mastery of me earlier.

"Necessary? Why is that?"

I couldn't help scoffing at her need to understand why. It should be obvious to the little minx.

_She's surprised? Really? After those moves she just pulled?_

"Honestly, Bella. You don't expect me to give you all the sexual power this early on, do you? Surely you are aware of the skilled moves you just used? Gentle teeth on my frenulum? Pressing on that gland? Fuck, Bella. That was ten different kinds of hot. Turnabout is fair play."

"Am I in trouble?" Her voice held a mixture of trepidation and excitement.

"Big trouble." I couldn't wait to get going.

"Well, get to it, cowboy. You've got me all riled up." I could hear the smile in her voice even though I was studying the smooth skin of her neck.

She didn't need to tell me twice. I definitely wasn't going to go at her insinuated pace, however. There was a spot just below her ear that desperately needed my attention. I pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses up and down that area. Her breath was coming in small pants, her nipples were hard, and I was sure, even though I hadn't checked, that her toes were curling.

"Edward?" she gasped out, her fingers clutched in my hair, flexing around my scalp.

"Yes, love?" I had started sucking on that one sensitive spot, going for precisely that reaction. The warm texture and the taste of her skin were divine.

"Were you planning on moving south of my neck anytime soon? I hate to ask, but there are other parts already screaming for attention."

_I've got to give her just enough to keep her asking for more. That should bring out the volume. I don't want to actually piss her off though__ – __that's just mean._

"That's odd. I haven't heard any screaming." My gentle teasing was met with a puff of air that exited her mouth and sounded slightly frustrated. Rather than voice the request out loud, she arched her back until her nipples were pressed into my chest. She backed away slightly and rubbed back and forth, mewling from her throat.

"Oh, those!" I had to suppress a chuckle at her obvious impatience.

_Damn! She's begging. That is so fucking hot. Who knew she would turn into such a sex kitten?_

"Yes, for crying out loud! They ache, Edward. Do something." Kissing my way past her

neck and chest, I hovered over her erect nipple, allowing my warm breath to make it harder still, even though that hadn't seemed possible. Gently rubbing the straining protrusion between my thumb and forefinger, the pebbled nub turned dark pink at my attentions.

"Mmmmm, Edward! I need…!"

I continued to rub and caress both nipples with my fingers. I had to erase my own physical condition from my mind because the aroused sound of her breathy requests was an aural overload.

"You need?"

_You're being a bit of an ass, you know._

_There's nothing wrong with asking her to vocalize her desires._

"Fuck, Edward. I need your mouth." She pulled my head down to where she wanted it.

_Damn, that's__ hot. She knows what she wants and she's not to shy to demand it. Fuck!_

I started by just swiping the flat surface of my tongue across the hardened peak.

"Nnnnnn. More!"

Moving my tongue in circles I paused for a second to observe the results of my efforts. Her nipple was pink, wet, and pouting at me. I decided to give her what she wanted before she got too pissed off. My mouth engulfed both her nipple and areola. I sucked, varying the intensity, until she was writhing against me.

"Mmmm, so good. Finally! Fuck, I thought you'd never…Yes, just like that. Don't stop doing that." I switched breasts and she sighed with contentment when I sucked on the other nipple. Her legs were tightening around my waist and her hips had begun to flex back and forth. I could feel her damp heat scorching my abdomen where she pressed against me.

_She's so hot and wet. Fuck – this kind of sexy should come with a warning label._

Every time I drew in on her nipple her hips bucked forward. I ran my hand lightly up and down her back. The other hand was holding her breast up to my lips. I sucked one last time there before kissing my way down her torso. I rolled her from her side onto her back and rubbed my face against the soft, smooth skin of her abdomen. The rough stubble on my cheeks made a scratching sound against her belly, and she moaned deep and low before grabbing a pillow to pull over her face. I pulled the pillow away.

"Ah, ah, ah, no muffling your moans, my love. Loud is good." I must have been wearing a giant grin because she opened her eyes and smacked me on the arm.

"Ow!" I said, tossing the pillow on the floor. "Remember. Loud is the goal – it gets you more of what you want." She glared at me mutinously, but there was an aroused smile in her eyes.

"So if I start moaning like a crazy woman, you'll go faster?" Her eyebrows were raised as though she was plotting something.

"Well, real moans, none of that fake porno stuff."

"Like this? Ohhhh, unnnnnh, please, Edward, You're a sex-god! Mmmmm, Yessss!"

I couldn't help but chuckle at her saucy impression of overwhelming ecstasy. "Can I make that my ringtone?"

_Even her feigned moans turn me on. Normally that sort of thing would be lame, but she's just too sexy for her own good._

She grabbed another pillow and hit me over the head. I took that pillow from her and slid it back under her head, giving her a brief kiss on the lips before I reached down to the floor to retrieve the other pillow. Caressing her hip, I asked her to lift up for a moment. She looked puzzled, and then complied. I slid the pillow under her hips. She now had an unrestricted view of what was about to happen. When she realized what I was doing, she draped an arm over her eyes.

"Fuck, Edward. You're killing me here." She sounded even more aroused, if that was possible. Her voice always got lower, throatier when she was turned on.

_I fucking love her turned on voice._

"And you don't think you just did the same thing to me?" I couldn't keep suppress the surprise from my voice.

"Well, yeah, but I thought my lady jungle would turn you off, and I'd get a free pass this time."

_She actually thinks that a few curls would turn me off? Silly woman. All that does is conceal the hidden wealth within. I can work with that! _

_Sheez__– shaved, waxed, plucked, full coverage – I don't really care. It's her responses and what's underneath that matter._

"I'm trying to think of a scenario where anything you did would turn me off, and I can't come up with one. Maybe if you were violently ill, I might be turned off. Even then, once you brushed your teeth, I'd definitely have wood again. I'm an ass, remember? Oh, and it's not a jungle at all. You have nothing to worry about. Quit fretting and enjoy this."

Kissing one of her hipbones, I ran my tongue all along the dips and valleys of her skin. Getting into position down lower, I gently grasped first one calf and then the other, draping her legs over my shoulders.

_Finally. I've wanted her in this position for far too long._

_If it wasn't incredibly pervy and inappropriate, I would have done this in an exam room on the first day we met._

She released a shuddering breath; I glanced up to find her eyes on me. She blushed beet red, no doubt at seeing my face between her legs. She was worrying her lower lip with her teeth. Keeping my eyes on her, I gently pressed her open and dipped my tongue down to take a first swipe of moist, pink flesh. She shivered and moaned, her head falling back onto the pillow.

_Damn, she tastes good. Tart yet sweet. So... Bella._

I ran my tongue down the length of her slit until the tip of my tongue dipped into her entrance. Her hips rose up to meet me. I placed a forearm over her belly to keep her still.

"Mmmm, Edward. Fuck, yes." I paused to look up at her face. That incredible expression of ecstatic arousal had take over her features as it had in every sexual fantasy I'd ever had of her.

_That's a good start, but she's definitely not loud __enough yet._

I pursed my lips and sucked on her raised nub. A squeal escaped her mouth, and she clamped a hand over her lips, shocked at herself. I couldn't resist smiling.

I grabbed the edge of the towel from its resting place on the corner of the bed. Discreetly wiping my lips, I crawled back up her body.

_She definitely needs some reassuring kisses._

"Bella?" Her eyes opened, blinking to find me so close to her.

"Oh, hello," she replied, blushing again. I gave her a long open-mouthed kiss until she sighed into my mouth. I raised my head to speak to her.

_I wonder if she can taste herself on my lips. Is that gross or hot to her?_

"You smell good; you taste wonderful; you sound like a hot fantasy…I would gladly do this every night for the rest of my life just to hear you moan for me. Now, if you keep restraining those little sounds of yours, I'm going to use the rabbit on you." I raised an eyebrow. Her mouth was a shocked, little 'O' as she realized the seriousness of my

intent.

_So my mouth and fingers are intimidating, but mouth, fingers, and the toy make her look as though she'll become a sex fiend or something. Maybe the toy isn't a bad idea at all. Bella losing complete control sounds like the best movie in my head, ever._

"Rah-rabbit? And tongue?" She gave a little whimper and closed her eyes, nodding. "Full volume. Okay, Edward. I'll try. It goes against my instincts to shriek like a banshee, but I'll do it for you." I gave her one more kiss before sliding back down her torso. I dove back into her slick warmth without waiting for her to register my movements. She tasted good enough to do this for a long time.

"Holy fuck!" Her knees clamped around my ears before falling open. I rubbed my hands up and down the smooth skin of her sensitive inner thighs while nibbling my way up and down the coral paradise before me.

"Hunnnnh, that's a…..fuck, that's a good….Unnnnn! Edward….good spot." She was gasping and panting at full speed now. I decided to reward her for her vociferous cooperation and pressed my middle finger up into her passage, rubbing on her upper wall, back and forth. My lips latched back onto her clitoris. My ears were gifted with a shocked yelp as she began writhing and bucking against me. The yelp turned into a series of low moans as a rhythmic pattern built up between us. I felt her inner walls clamp down on my finger before releasing the pressure. Lapping my tongue up and down the swollen flesh, her walls clamped down again, hard. She was beginning to lubricate more, and I ran my mouth from top to bottom sipping up her tart moisture. I felt this overwhelming urge to know the depths of her body with my tongue. Moving my hand out of the way, I was pressing my tongue in and out of her body when she began to gasp and try to talk again.

"Mmmm, so good, so good. Damn… right there, yes. Only thing…. better….you inside me." I felt her body shift. It was probably to look up at me.

_She's watching you. Damn – she's a little voyeur too. Fuck, I want to be inside her more than anything else in the world._

_God, it's tempting. Fuck, yes. Can I?_

_Don't even think about it. Even with a strong orgasm in your not too distant past, you still don't have the kind of restraint for the thrusting she would demand. She's the fucking Holy Land, and you're just a pilgrim under her spell._

Pressing once more inside her with my tongue, I had to switch back to my hand using two fingers this time because her hips were demanding more.

_Well, if I can't give her the hard thrusts she wants with my…I can at least simulate that with my fingers._

I withdrew my damp fingers all the way from her liquid passage and slid them back in firmly, my knuckles sliding into place. I repeated this several times, building up an increasing rhythm. I was rewarded with a shrill moan with each impact of my fingers up inside her tight body. Her head was rocking back and forth on the pillow when I glanced up at her. She was mindless with passion right now. A flush had spread across her chest; her nipples were beaded, and I hadn't touched them in a while. I slammed my fingers back inside her again. Dipping my head back down to her engorged clit, I sucked on it until a guttural scream sounded forth from the depths of her being. Her feet arched into points on the skin of my lower back, and her walls clenched around my fingers again. She was panting in earnest now. I tickled my tongue back and forth against her clitoris while rubbing on the sensitive bundles of nerves deep inside her. She began to moan again, and it didn't taper off this time. The tickling of my tongue on her clitoris, drew the powerful sound from her body, until she stopped to suck in air. Her hips were all over the place now, and she was making these little cut-off moans in time with her gyrating lower body.

Unnnnnh…..unnnnnh……please……unnnnh… almost….there….."

I sucked harder on her clit and slammed those fingers back in again and again, and then she came with a vengeance, rhythmically against my hand, her body clenching endlessly against the digits deep inside her. I pressed and rubbed all the way through every sound she made. She was still tight around my fingers, the tension still deep within her body. I made to remove my fingers, and her hand slapped down over mine.

"Please? Not yet? Fuck, it still feels good." Guiding my hand, she raised her hips up and thrust against me again. "Unh! Just a little bit more! Fuck, I'm close again. What the hell?"

_Fuck. She's multi-orgasmic. She mother-fucking wants more. I'm going to have to use the rabbit just to get her through this. Fuck! Who knew? I though the toy would be a consequence. Fuck, the thing's a necessity at this point!_

"Bella, love." She nodded her head at me, not wanting to open her eyes. "Rub right here for me, will you?" I placed her fingers over her clit and got her going with a gentle rhythm while I rolled over to her bedside table to retrieve the toy.

_Fucking fingers are cramping up. She's right. This would be easier if we could just go at __it like bunnies for a couple hours._

_Thank God she has that toy._

Getting back down to business, I moved her hands back up to her nipples and got her to pinch down on them. She licked her lips and nodded, her legs falling open again. I slowly pressed the length deep inside her body. It wasn't turned on yet. She moaned in response to what I assumed was a fuller feeling. Her body clenched tightly, and the toy moved in response. Taking in the series of buttons on the handle, I pressed one of them and the device began to buzz.

"Fuck, Edward. It aches! I just… Why won't it go away?" She sounded distressed, so I began thrusting the toy in and out in a steady rhythm. Allowing it to do some of the work down below, I was free to suck on her nipples again. I hitched one of her thighs over my own and pressed the toy deep before pulling it out and pressing it back again. The twin sensations of my mouth on her breast and the thrusting deep inside caused her to begin moaning loudly again. Her arms wrapped around me and she slammed her hips up against me, causing the toy to slide deeper. Not having my fingers inside, it wasn't as easy to know when she was coming. I paid attention to the rhythm of her hips. She was thrusting faster and faster against the vibrating toy. I pressed another button and it began to buzz harder.

"Oh, oh. OH! Fuck!" She squeezed her eyes shut for a long moment, her hips raised high off the bed before she collapsed again, and then slowly her panting breaths tapered off. She lay weakly against me, her body covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

"Ahh….! Can you turn that off?" Realizing that the buzzing toy was getting to be too much, I removed it from her body and turned it off before setting it on top of the towel to deal with later. I gathered her into my arms and pressed kisses against her temple.

"You okay, love?" I gently pulled away to take in the flushed skin of her face. She looked boneless and worn out. The fine hairs around her forehead had curled around her face where she'd perspired.

"Um, what the fuck was that?" She sounded genuinely baffled as to what had just happened.

"I'm guessing that was two rather strong back-to-back orgasms, honey." I smiled against the damp curls at her forehead.

_Damn. I wonder about her numbers! What is she capable of?_

"Two? Is that normal?" She pressed her lips against the skin on my neck.

"Apparently for you, it is. Has this ever happened before?"

"By myself? No. Um…," her voice trailed off.

_Yes?_

"Well…." She sounded hesitant to continue speaking.

"What is it, Bella?"

_Go on, you can tell me anything love._

"I've felt like I wanted you to keep going before. I told myself not to be greedy, and the feeling went away."

_Damn__! You idiot! You could have given her multiples from the beginning if you'd established a means for her to ask freely for things like this._

"Really? Why didn't you say anything?"

"I don't know." Her voice sounded annoyed with her own lack of insight. "It was late; I'd just had an orgasm, and it didn't feel right to demand more."

"For the record, I want you to demand more. I'm just as committed to satisfying you, honey. If I ever need to invoke the contract because you're wearing me out…That will make me one of the happiest men alive. It would take a lot to get me to do that, though."

_So you talked yourself out of letting me know your body wanted more?_

_Give her a break – she didn't understand the significance of it. Get her to talk about it. Isn't that the whole point of this?_

"It was different this time though?" I couldn't keep the evident curiosity out of my voice.

"Yes!" She sounded amazed at herself. "This was like…indescribable. The first orgasm was good, believe me, but the second one was even stronger, but shorter. It's actually hard to explain." She sounded frustrated with her lack of words. "It's like the first one was a slow build, and then the second one was really strong, and intense with harder, shorter clenches. It was crazy amazing. There was an urgency this time that I couldn't ignore. I don't think that feeling would have gone away. You would have found me rolling around in bed moaning if you'd stopped. I've never felt anything so strong before."

_Wow. Did I do that to her, or is that just her own incredible sexuality?_

_Uh, I think that's just her, dude. You're good, but you're not _that _good._

"You know what?" I hesitated to put it into words, but this was a huge discovery.

_She was fucking made for me. The insatiable fuck-up finds a multi-orgasmic woman._

"What?" she said, twisting her face up towards my voice.

"If I'm insatiable, and you're multi-orgasmic….we might just actually satisfy each other. I hope you're not all that fond of sleep because when we actually start making love, I have a feeling it's going to be very involved, and time-consuming, and explosive." I couldn't help but grin widely at the prospect. I'd have to take good care of her, though – prevent her from getting too sore. I made a mental note to make sure the oversized tub in the second bathroom was scrubbed and gleaming for the next time she came over.

"I don't mind walking funny if you don't mind yawning a lot," she returned, grinning like a worn-out fool. I couldn't resist kissing the smile off her face.

"How's Mister Friendly?" she asked against my lips, and I pulled back a little, staring at her in surprise. "You want to go again? I know it's late, but we could do a quickie on you – no squeezing, just orgasm and then sleep."

Her offer was tempting, but we had set a rule for this kind of situation. Well – she had.

"According to your peen time clock thing, I get to decide. You're exhausted. I'd like to will this one away if you don't mind, and just sleep with you in my arms." She yawned, loudly, and let her head settle into the crook of my neck.

_I don't know how I'm going to will this one away. It might take a while. It must be the symphony of her moans replaying in my head. I'm fucking throbbing again. She could take my pulse by dick alone right now._

"Damn. I was hoping you'd let me put you in my mouth again. Unnnh, just the idea is turning me on again." She sounded really disappointed.

_Fucking-A. If she doesn't stop talking like that, I'm going__ to give the poor girl a sore jaw._

"Keep talking like that and I won't have the willpower to resist you again, you crazy tired woman."

"I can be very faa-aast," she offered in a sing-song voice. Her hand was beginning to travel down my chest. I grabbed onto her naughty fingers before they reached their destination.

_Shit, she's got me full to bursting already with all this eager-to-suck-me-off__talk._

_Am I a horrible bastard if I let her do that again?_

_Not if you slide opposite her and get her off __again, too__._

_Will three orgasms and that much rubbing make her sore?_

_It can't be as bad as enthusiastic sex._

"Fuck, Edward! I want to try to swallow this time. Don't make me wait." She wiggled out of my arms and slithered down my chest.

_Shit. I don't think I can stop her._

_Fuck. Never mind stopping her. Didn't you hear what she said about swallowing?_

_Shut the fuck up and get in position._

"Wait, love." She looked up at me, one eyebrow raised. "Turn this way – with your hips over here." She had a puzzled look on her face but she acquiesced to my request. One of her arms slid along my thigh as she settled against my hip. She was already adjusting the foreskin and licking around the head when I pressed her legs open with an elbow and opened her folds to give the damp flesh a lick. Her lips were sliding down my hardness when I rubbed my rough tongue against her newly swollen clitoris.

_God Almighty - a feast for the mouth and her lips around my length. If I survive this, and don't blow it, then there's hope for me._

"Oh!" she yelped around my thick length. "Mmmmm."

_Could she sound like she's enjoying this any more?_

_Um, no. She sounds like a kid that just discovered candy._

_Fuck. Her hot mouth – again. Twice in one fucking night. What did I do to deserve this woman?_

I reached down for her toy again before I lost all conscious thought. Keeping it in my hand, I paid attention to the urgency in my body. I was close to coming, but not dangerously so. I slid the toy inside her again. She sucked on my length harder in response.

_Damn. This is going to be __difficult to keep__ my focus. I have to get her off, too__. I should have thought of that. Focus! Ahh, she's sucking on my frenulum again. Shit._

My dick tightened, balls drawing in tighter against my body.

_Ignore it, get her going, NOW!_

I turned the toy on, and rubbed my tongue up and down as far as I could reach. Our reciprocal moans filled the bedroom with a symphony of pleasure. She was bobbing her head in time with my grunting, restrained thrusts. I pressed my tongue against her swollen nub, while using my hands to move the toy in and out of her body again. She moaned around my pulsing length, and the vibration of her vocal cords tightened everything in my body.

"Fuck, Bella... unnhh... that feels... incredible...." I had a hard time breathing because I was panting and moaning and trying my hardest to stay focused on working her towards another climax My balls tensed and readied even more. I turned up the toy, hoping to give her another orgasm before I lost my head in sheer mind-numbing joy. Wanting to know if she was close, I traced my fingers around the stretched flesh of her opening. I rubbed the moist skin and felt her body begin to rhythmically clench in another orgasm. I tilted the toy to hit her clitoris and draw out the sensations she was experiencing.

The deep moans coming from her mouth vibrated again around my impossibly hard shaft and I lost it.

"Bella... fuck... I can't hold it... unnhh...yes... oh FUUUCK..."

The knowledge that I'd pleasured her yet again set me off into violent spasms of intense release, and my seed shot into her mouth in long streams. She gulped and swallowed around my length, lapping and sucking up the evidence of my ecstasy. I was still gripping her hips tightly in my hands when she released my waning length from her mouth, and sucked air in gulping gasps.

_Shit-fucking-A. We're going to kill each other._

_Yeah, but what a way to go. _

Her cheek rested against my thigh. My own head was pressed against the soft curls of her mound. I slid the toy out of her and gasped for air. Knowing she was likely too exhausted to move from her perch in my lap, I lifted her under the arms and settled her limp body against my chest. Her heart was thumping against mine.

"That was totally worth it," she mumbled into my pectoral muscle. "I can't feel my toes, but I don't fucking care." She sounded both satisfied and amused.

My chest shook as I laughed at her exhausted summary of her physical status.

"Just rest, honey. Go to sleep; we can brag about our skills in the morning."

She chuckled, yawned, and curled into my body, one thigh pressing in between mine. I moved in closer to her, tucking her head under my chin, my palm rubbing up and down her back. Within a few minutes, we were both asleep.

~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~

I slept through more than six whole hours for the first time in a very long time. It was barely six AM when I awoke to the first hint of sunlight streaming in through her bedroom window. I instantly remembered my plans for this morning. If I could run my errand to Home Depot and be back before she woke up, then I could accomplish my goal to share my feelings with her this morning. I puttered into her bathroom to brush my teeth and wash up as quietly as possible. Then I realized that I didn't even have a toothbrush on me.

Her medicine cabinet revealed a treasure trove of back-stocked toiletry supplies. She had several bars of deodorant, two tubes of toothpaste, a few toothbrushes still in the packaging, eye drops, and swabs in a glass jar. I hijacked one of her extra toothbrushes in honor of good dental hygiene.

_It's too bad Home Depot doesn't carry toothbrushes. _

_I'll have to replace that when I get a chance._

Not wanting her to wake up and wonder where I was, I quickly jotted a note and left it on a pillow before grabbing my clothing to dress in her living room. At the last minute, I also snatched up her keys so that I could lock her door on my way out. In only a few minutes, I was striding through the courtyard to my car. There was a Home Depot about five minutes away. Given that this was Saturday morning and traffic was close to nil, I made it there in record time. After locking the car, I walked the few steps to the front entrance. The attendant near the door offered her assistance, and I let her know I was there to have a key made. Luckily, she knew how to work the machine, and walked with me over to the correct aisle. After taking my house key off the ring, I watched while she made a duplicate. It didn't take long for her to finish running the machine and softening up the sharp edges on the new key. She bagged it, scribbled something on the bag in grease pencil, and sent me on my way to the cashier.

I quickly paid for the key and a bag of Skittles, and walked over to the quarter-fed candy machines. Disregarding the content, I tried to choose the container big enough to hold a key. I popped in two quarters and turned the knob. The metal door concealed a plastic case holding a child's press-on tattoo. Walking out the large door, I tossed the tattoo nonsense in the trash and headed to the car.

_Should I pick up pastries or something?_

_Oddly enough, I want to eat really ordinary food with her this morning. Cold cereal in bed sounds strangely better than something __store-bought__._

The entire trip there and back took me less than twenty minutes. The apartment door unlocked easily, and I placed both sets of keys on the coffee table. Walking over to the kitchen and opening the bag of candy, I filled the container, stuck the new key inside, and closed the pop-on lid. I heeled off my shoes in the living room and was already removing my clothes to climb back into bed with her when I saw the undisturbed note. A quick retrieval crumpled it in my hands, and I tossed it in the trash. I placed the candy container on the nightstand as well before sliding naked back into bed.

She grumbled and moaned, wrinkling her nose. I gathered her into my arms, and she sighed before sliding her whole body against mine and kissing my chest.

_Yep, she fucking kisses you in her sleep. Too cute._

"Why're you so cold?" she mumbled into my skin.

"It's nothing, honey, just go back to sleep." I couldn't keep the amusement out of my voice, however.

My cold chest had pebbled her nipples against me. The morning fog had permeated my skin with a chill. The bed was warming me back up, though.

"Where'd you go at the butt-crack of dawn?" Apparently, she was more awake than I thought she was and sounded curiously disgruntled.

"Home Depot." She cracked an eye open to look up at me.

"You left our warm bed-cave to go walk through the aisles at the dusty Home Depot at…" She turned her head to check the clock. " Six-fucking AM? Are you mental?"

_Always. Now, if I can just convince you to love this head-case back, things would be swell._

"There is a strong possibility of that, yes. Are you sure you don't want to sleep more?" She looked like a rumpled sex goddess with messy hair and rosy skin flushed from sleep.

_It must be hard for someone who enjoys sleeping in to understand the compulsion to get up and get going in an early riser like myself. _

"I would go back to sleep if I wasn't totally baffled at your odd behavior. Would you like to tell me what was so urgent on a Saturday morning after a night of sexual debauchery, Edward?"

_We are sexually debauched together. I like it._

"Well, if you must know, I had to get you something." I sighed, realizing I wouldn't be able to kiss her awake the way I'd intended to.

_If I could just get her to go back to sleep…_

"Get me something? This better not have cost you a bunch of money, or I'm going to have to drop-kick your ass, Edward." Her eyes were closed again and she was snuggled back into my side.

_Her morning grumpiness is hilarious. Who wakes up and talks like an irate truck driver?_

"Nope. No drop-kicking necessary. I learned my lesson. This little excursion cost me $2.49 plus an additional dollar fifty for gift wrap. The whole thing was less than five bucks."

She raised a hand up to my cheek to rub her fingers against the stubble. "You seemed to want me to go back to sleep. Would you rather show me now, or is the sleeping part important?"

"I just know that you're tired. We didn't get to sleep at a decent hour. If you roll over and doze off, I promise to give it to you in a few hours."

"There's a sexual innuendo hidden in what you just said, but I'm too tired to point it out. It sounds fair enough. I'm way too tired to argue or drop-kick your cute butt anyhow. Shit, I don't even think I can kick that high. You're way too tall." She did roll over and curl into a body pillow before her breathing settled out into sleep again. I wrapped myself around her and tried to drift off. I doubted my ability to fall back asleep, but holding her in quiet serenity was worth the inactivity.

~~ * ~~ * ~~ * ~~

It was closer to nine when I woke up for the second time.

_You really did fall asleep again! What are the odds? Maybe her heartbeat lulled me into relaxation or something._

She was sleeping on my chest, her mouth open, and I felt the faintest trace of wetness.

_I think she's drooling on me. First she marks me with a hickey, and now she's anointing me with her morning sleep spit. If this isn't love, I don't know what it is._

_God, I hope she can say it back. This will be a__totally awkward__ fail on my part if she can't say it back to me._

_Just go into it expecting nothing in return. That way you can't be upset if she just hugs you and says nothing._

_How can I not be upset? I fucking want her to love me back, dammit. She pretty much has the __power to fillet me with a boning knife, if she wants__ to._

_Being an asshole is so much easier. Sharing your feelings is like parachuting naked. You feel so exposed, and then there's either a safe landing, or you crash and wind up in a hospital with a serious case of windburn in all the wrong places._

_Okay, now you're just rambling. Kiss her awake, and then tell her your stuff._

_Fuck? What am I going to say exactly?_

_Uh, you love her. You can't imagine life without her in it. You want to share all of your free time with her. It would be awfully nice if she spent most of her free time with you as well. _

_I'm willing to have her move in if she wants to, but if that's too soon, then that can wait…That's when you give her the candy thing._

_Shit. Am I supposed to say some sappy nonsense like in a movie?_

'_You complete me.' Gagg, that sounds lame._

_Nope. Nothing like that. Keep it simple, stupid._

_Okay, here goes._

I carefully moved her off my chest and back onto a pillow, so that I could wipe off her face with the edge of the sheet.

_Sweet, drooling, __sleeping,__ cuddly woman._

"Bella," I whispered softly before placing scattered kisses on her eyelids, cheeks, and chin. Her eyebrows wrinkled, and she headed back to my chest like a lodestone. She made a grumpy sound of discontent before burrowing into my neck; she placed a kiss there before sighing and going back to sleep.

I tried again. This time I gently settled her against the pillow and kissed her neck in a circle like I was giving her a necklace of kisses.

"Bella…," I whispered again. "It's time to wake up, lover of mine."

She wrinkled her nose and mumbled, "S'not time to wake up. Unh-uh." Her voice was pouting in its refusal. I couldn't help but laugh.

_If you're coherent enough to say that, then you're __already half-way there__, hon._

"You're faking. I can tell. At least I let you have nine hours of sleep before I bugged you."

"Extenuating circumstances. Marathon nookie session last night. Either let me sleep more, or start an IV coffee drip, STAT."

I laughed, but complied. Sort of. "Don't move then. I'll go make it. If you wake up without me, I'll think up a hideous consequence for you."

_Shit, I can't make her do something annoying. What on earth could I even get her to do? It would have to be some kind of chore, but not too gross._

_Something silly…like shining my shoes! Yeah, if she wakes up without me, and finds the candy thing on her own, her consequence will be to shine my wing tips. She'll hate the idea of it, but it's not too gross._

Not knowing how this would play out, I took the candy and placed it farther away on her dresser behind a bottle of lotion. She had a bargain coffee maker sitting on the counter next to a grinder and a bag of whole bean French Roast coffee.

_Hmmm. A Black and Decker coffee maker for someone with a caffeine addiction? Must do something about this grievously inadequate appliance. _

_How irritated would she be if I got her a Cuisinart coffee maker from Macy's?_

_Very irritated. Those are least a hundred bucks._

_She can make me wash her car as penance. I don't care. It doesn't require my checkbook either. I can pay in cash. How mad can she get?_

_Wait. When's her birthday?_

_Maybe under the auspices of sharing horrendous driver's license photos, I can get her date of birth. It can either be a very early or really late birthday gift._

A quick peek in her cupboard revealed a package of filters. Measuring out coffee into the small grinder, I gave the beans a buzz before upending the grounds into the filter I'd placed in the basket. After adding water to the reservoir, I turned the switch to on. The bathroom was only steps away, and I started the water in the shower.

Despite the uncertainty of what I was about to do, I felt happy enough to whistle. I was washing her shampoo into my hair again when something occurred to me.

_Worst case scenario is that she just can't say it back. That doesn't mean she can't fall in love with you eventually. It just means that it's been less than a month, and most normal people don't passionately declare their feelings this soon. You're just a hopelessly romantic sap, and you have to deal with the fallout from that._

I rinsed my hair and used the bar of soap to work up some suds all over before placing it back in the holder.

_Holy Fuck. You're almost done with your shower, and you didn't even think about jerking off._

I looked down at the rabble-rouser, more flaccid than I'd seen it in a long time.

_Damn!_

_When was the last time that happened?_

_Uh, never?_

_This is good, right?_

_Uh, sure. You could still get yourself turned on. This means you're controlling your arousal more, rather than it controlling you._

_Shit. This becoming normal stuff is rather weird, but oddly relaxing._

_Stupid wonder-peen is usually just annoying._

_I wonder if my sex drive will change significantly when I get older._

I gave my hair a final rinse and turned off the tap. Using the towel from the night and wrapping it around my waist, I stood before her sink working up the nerve to go in there and talk about my feelings like some talk show lame ass.

The coffee was probably ready. It took just a minute to wash my hands and slip back into my clothes. She was still passed out; she was sleeping while sprawled across the bed.

Padding barefoot into the kitchen, I poured two cups of coffee, adding some fat-free milk to my own mug. I knew she liked hers black. I set both mugs down on the nightstand before pocketing the small container that held the candy and key. When I sat down on the edge of the bed, she cracked one eye at me from her face-down position on one of the pillows.

"I come in peace - bearing gifts of coffee and a surprise." I tried to keep a steady edge to my voice, but I was already feeling a little bit nervous at what was about to happen.

She sat up, naked as the day she was born, her hair draping over her chest in messy clumps. "If you have coffee, I will be your sex slave from here to eternity."

_Shoot, maybe that should be my new ring tone._

_Or, maybe we could have someone stitch that into a pillow or something._

"The coffee comes free of strings, no sex slavery required. Although I can accommodate you if that's something you require." I sipped from my own mug and raised an eyebrow at her. She wiggled out of bed to rummage around in a drawer for a t-shirt. Slipping the oversized garment on, she turned around, and I had a chance to read the lettering on the chest. It read, 'Hamlet was a moody bitch'. Puzzled at my choked laughter, she looked up at me, but had already figured out why I was laughing.

"I have a few of these; they're rather fun, I think. The best part is watching who gets them, and observing who is merely puzzled." She had a sweet smile on her face, and she tried to contain her hair behind her back.

"How can someone not know who Hamlet is? Isn't that standard high school reading?"

She threw her hands up in the air in agreement with me.

"That's what I said! And I still get weird looks when I wear this." She crawled back over to the headboard, leaning against it, and sipped the coffee I'd handed to her. She looked at me over the rim of her mug as she took another sip. "So… I have my caffeine fix. You had something else for me?"

I set my coffee mug back on the nightstand and slithered down in the bed.

"God, Bella. I'm such a dork." I threw a hand over my eyes knowing I looked like some kind of nervous loser with no confidence. She reached over me carefully to set her mug next to mine. Sliding down to me she said something that surprised me.

"Well if you're a dork, and I'm a nerd, then we should be a perfect match! I'm so puzzled by this show of near teen angst. What brought this on, Edward?" Her lips were pursed in thought, and she was trying to get a better look at my face from under my arm. Finally, she lifted it out of the way to study me. I couldn't look at her. She made a sound of discontent at what I assumed was my lack of eye contact.

"Actually, I've been trying to figure out a way to tell you this all week, and I couldn't figure out anything really good. So I'm just going to say it." Without conscious thought, my arm crept back over my eyes, fearful that I would run right smack into a wall of rejection.

"Okay. You know you can tell me anything." She leaned her chin on the hand that was lying on my chest. I moved my arm, opened my eyes and glanced down at her before looking away again.

_Just say it; it's not going to be as bad as you think it will._

"Well, I want to start by saying that I don't expect you to reciprocate, because that would be too wonderful, and I don't want to set myself up for disappointment. So you don't have to feel like you have to say the same thing back to me." I was speaking in a rush, and reminded myself to slow down a little.

"Okay…Gosh, you've got me all curious now." She scooted closer and pressed her toes against my shin.

"Bella?"

She had that horrible popcorn acoustic ceiling in her apartment.

"Yes?" There was patience in her voice mixed with a hint of a question.

I released a huge sigh, and then just blurted it out. "I am so completely in love with you it's not even funny. Ever since we met, I held off on thinking about this because it just seemed impossible that I could meet someone so right for me. Couple that with my track record for screwing things up, and I really didn't want to dwell too heavily on if you might be a person I could love. It hit me last weekend when you were sitting on the couch starting to read that ridiculous sex help book. I looked at you - so willing to do just about anything for me, and I couldn't deny how much your very presence makes my heart happier, my days better, and my nights more amazing than ever before. I don't expect you to feel the same way right now, but I can't go on without letting you know this."

I had delivered the entire speech to the ceiling, not even daring to look her in the face as I bared my emotions to her. I chanced a glance at her face and found twin tears running down her cheeks.

_Good tears or bad tears? Shit, Bella. Say something – please._

And then she smiled and launched herself at me. I couldn't understand what she was saying at first because her head was buried in my neck and she was mumbling something over and over.

"I love you; I love you; I love you; God! I love you, too." There were happy tears in her voice. "I'm supposed to be eloquent with words, but honestly I've got nothing right now. I'm so glad you said something because the same thing has been killing me all week. We haven't even known each other a month, and I would never want to say something like that lightly. I've never even said it to someone before. I thought that a few times you'd been hinting that you have strong feelings for me, but I was too much of a coward to say it first. You have no idea how happy I am that you said it first. Thank God! We could have been stranded 'in like' for months if you hadn't had the cajones to say something."

I smiled at her Spanish swear word. "There's a little something else."

"Oh? A passionate declaration of love was not enough for little old me? What else do I get? I believe you said it was a gift of less than five dollars. Now I'm dying to know about your shopping trip." She wiggled against me in anticipation.

Reaching into my pocket, the little plastic container wound up in her small hand. She palmed it, a confused expression on her face. Rattling it, she inspected it for meaning.

"Candy? From a slot machine?" She sounded skeptical, but I knew it was because she didn't know what was inside yet.

"Just open it; it will make sense in a minute." She popped off the lid and ate a piece of candy. The silver edge of the key was sticking out, and she fished it from the container with a thumb and forefinger. A few more skittles fell onto the mattress. I grabbed one and popped it into my mouth – happy to have gotten the nerve-wracking part over.

"A key? Oh! It's to your place? Are you sure you want me to be able to legally stalk you? What if I wear out my welcome? I hear that even the sweetest guys need some alone time, you know." She closed the lid on the container, setting it aside to handle the key.

I pulled her closer to me, tucking her head under my chin. "You could move in anytime you wanted to, and I would be elated. I doubt that you're ready to give up your personal space though. Let's just say that you can come and go as you please without having to worry if I'm already home or not. Besides, my place is a little bit bigger than yours, and my bed is king-sized. Hell, my shower is huge, too. I have a bench; you wouldn't need to stand on a rickety plastic stool to reach my head."

"You're seriously ready to see girl stuff in your bathroom? I promise not to bring on a full-fledged flowery invasion, but…this is big. Are you sure?"

She sounded a little hesitant, and I just couldn't have that. "If kidnapping you was both legally and socially acceptable, I would have done that already. I honestly _hate _bringing you home, or leaving to go back to my place without you. Sheez, I've hated leaving you since our first kiss. I know I did the whole gentlemanly thing about not staying too long, and some bullshit about wanting to be invited back, but I seriously wanted to either pitch a tent in your living room and camp out or drag you back to my cave like some kind of freakish twenty-first century caveman." I shifted in bed until we were eye to eye, hoping to persuade her to see my valid reasons for moving in.

"We already spend most of our weekend time together. What mostly keeps us apart is homework and laundry, which you could totally do at my place without having to haul stuff back and forth or having to use quarters. Did you know that I did closet surgery weeks ago in the hopes that something of yours might _accidentally_ wind up in my closet? I'm a hopeless case. Say you'll move in, or at least move _something_ over here. I think your panty drawer should move first, but that's just my opinion." Schooling my features into an innocent expression, I waited for the punch on the arm, but she kissed me on the cheek instead.

"Okay." She smiled at me, beaming with pure happiness.

"Okay, what? Okay, yes I'll move in with you, or okay, yes I'll put a hairbrush in the bathroom?"

_That was entirely too easy. Where is the independent woman who needs her space crap I was expecting?_

"Okay, yes I'll move some stuff over here. It won't be all at once though. I need to sell some of my garage sale furniture. It's just not necessary to have my ratty end tables next to your Ethan Allen stuff. I'd also like to let a friend have my apartment rather than some random person. It's a cool place with low rent. It will take me time to pack stuff up and get rid of other things. Oh, and I want to pay part of the rent." Her voice had changed from explaining to firm with that last thought.

"You're serious? I could have you cohabiting with me by the end of the month? Holy shit! That was easier than I thought it would be. Hell no on the rent thing, though." My voice was equally as firm, and I sensed another fight coming on.

"Why the hell not, on the rent thing?" she questioned with some ire in her voice.

"It's just silly, Bella. Two bedrooms in a decent neighborhood with minimum _high _rent control is going to be too much for you. Aren't you on a scholarship? Why on earth would I require rent from you? It makes zero sense when I'm literally sitting on wads of cash. I live on just _some_ of the interest that comes from the investments of Edward Senior. My money is growing without my consent! I can't spend it all in this lifetime if I wanted to, and you think I should charge you some stupid amount of rent? Honestly! Use the extra money to buy clever English Lit. t-shirts or something."

"Arggggh. I honestly _loathe_ money discussions. It literally brings out the worst in me. I just can't be a kept woman in a beautiful apartment without contributing _something_ to the bottom line. Let me buy all the groceries and cover all the utilities. You've got to give me something, Edward, or I'm going to feel like 'Pamela' in that Samuel Richardson novel."

"Groceries and utilities would be okay, I guess. I don't understand that literary allusion though. Please explain."

_It's like she can't always elaborate on an idea without referencing something she's read._

"Pamela is this lowly servant in her lord's household. The master of the manor tries to seduce her sexually with fancy gifts. I think he gives her a pair of gloves and some other stuff, while she tries valiantly to hold onto her virtue."

_That damn book was probably what made her imagine me as some kind of Machiavellian villain over the painting._

"Honestly, Bella? Fancy gloves? You unknowingly handed over your virtue after approximately four hours without demanding a thing from me. If groceries and an electric bill or two make you feel better, then alright. I'm adding you onto a credit card though. It just makes sense in case you need to pick something up for me, and I'm not here to take care of it. Just go with the logic, and try not to let the villain in the long mustache get to you. You know I'm not a creep, love." I pressed a kiss against her cheek.

She sounded weary. "I know that. Believe me; I know that all too well. I just get weirded out by money. I can't explain why. Perhaps I've read too many melodramatic books. It messes with your head after a while." She was tracing a design on my chest with her finger. I suddenly realized that we were still lying in bed and she had to be getting hungry.

"So what do you want to do today? I had this vision of eating cold cereal in bed with you. How does that sound? After breakfast maybe we can pack a box of stuff to take over to my place."

"Cold cereal? You can do that if you want to, but I had plans of making Saturday morning popovers with raspberry jam and lemon mousse. Scramble a couple of eggs and we've got a gourmet breakfast. We could eat cold cereal if you prefer it, though." She looked up at me from under her eyelashes to see if I would jump at the chance for an adventure breakfast.

_Bella cooking for me in this t-shirt with her breasts unbound and her smooth skin right next to mine? _

_Uh, yeah. I'm already there._

"Um, yeah. Cold cereal totally blows. I like your idea better. Can I help you?"

_What the hell is a popover?_

"Sure. You can man the scrambled eggs when the popovers are almost finished. You know, only a few people have had my popovers…"

"Really? Is there some significance to making them?" She pressed her index finger against her chin while she thought about her answer.

"I only make them for people I truly love. So far my dad and Alice have had them. I've never made them for a boyfriend before though. Not that I ever really had a boyfriend before…" Her voice trailed off as she thought for a moment. "So you would be the first. Jake even begged me to make them for him, but I refused. He wasn't popover worthy."

_Fuck right he's not worthy. All of your goodies belong to me – baked or otherwise._

"Ha! That was the perfect thing to tell me. Now I'll have something to hold over his head if I ever meet the punk who knew you when you were in pigtails. That still bugs me a little. You must have been even cuter than you are now."

"Mmm, not really. I was mostly covered in bruises and had knobby knees. I was very gangly and awkward. I count myself lucky that you didn't see me then. Trust me, you've missed nothing."

_Yeah, I don't think so. __Your cute__ face in a child's version would have been angelic._

"I'll give you that much because you seem to want me to agree with you, but if I ever get the chance to raid photo albums, I'm going for it. God knows Esme will drag out the naked bathtub pictures when you finally meet her. There's got to be some photographic evidence of you somewhere."

"All things in due time. Okay, let's head to the kitchen." She was pulling on a pair of sleep shorts under her long t-shirt. "Just let me brush my teeth and wash my face before I meet you in the kitchen. You can take out the eggs, milk, butter, and the flour out of the cupboard. I'll just be a second!" She was already skipping towards the bathroom.

I headed to the kitchen to scavenge around for the items she mentioned. I'd never felt more content in my whole life.

_Fuck, dude. Not only are you in love with the greatest girl ever, but she loves you back and is willing to move in with you. And you were so worried!_

_I told you that you were being a total pansy._

_Everyone has a moment to wuss out. It's inevitable. We can't be confident assholes all the time._

In a few minutes she waltzed into the kitchen and started preparing what became the best breakfast of my twenty-six years on planet earth.

**A/N: Anyone up for some geology trivia?**

**When Edward tries to get Bella to rest against a pillow so he can kiss her awake, she keeps snuggling into his chest as a lodestone would to a piece of iron.**

**Lodestones are these cool rocks composed of magnetite with a naturally magnetic charge. When placed on a table next to a piece of iron, they will scurry across the surface to cling to the metal. These nifty rocks became part of the first magnetic compasses in early navigation practices.**

**There. Now I've shared a bit of my nerdiness with you. Thanks for reading; please review and connect with another human today. It's good for you!**


	21. Seize the Love Weapon

Chapter 21: Seize the Love Weapon

**A/N: Good morning, good afternoon, and good evening, fellow Duck Fuckers!**

**After a seven month hiatus, I'm back for another chapter of FTT. It was brought to my attention that we don't have a name for the readers who've loyally followed this story despite my epic write-fail this past year. On the Twilighted thread, a few names were tossed around. 'Duck Fuckers' was one of them. Too vulgar? Just vulgar enough? I'd love to know what you think. The other one that made mention was 'Insatiable Sexward Hoors'. Neither one is all that pretty. I'd love to hear an idea if you have one. It's rather cool to me when a story develops an identity enough to name the followers. Let me know what you think in a review. Without further ado, here is Chapter 21 of FTT... **

**Serendipity**

**an 18****th**** century English word**

**attributed to the author Horace Walpole who amended the word **_**Serendip**_** into**

**Serendipity in his correspondence after he had read an old Persian fairy tale about three princes from Serendip ( Sri Lanka). The princes were always "making discoveries by accidents and sagacity of things they were not in quest of..." Horace introduced the word to a friend and called it "very expressive."**

**noun**

**finding something valuable or delightful when not looking for it**

**an aptitude for making fortunate discoveries by accident**

**the fact or occurrence of such a discovery**

BPOV

It wasn't until we'd both gotten a break from life that something momentous happened in our quest to make it to the finish line. We'd survived Thanksgiving and the Christmas Holiday by spending time with Edward's family, which was a separate adventure in itself. After coming home, tired of the excitement and nervousness of meeting his family, I could appreciate the weeks off from school before spring semester began. Edward had free time from the constant studying and projects, and my schedule opened up – my only obligation being the few shifts a week at the veterinarian's office.

I had the day off. No alarm, nowhere to be, no mental noise to interrupt the somnolent coma I was currently indulging. The cool morning air was coming in through the window, and I was almost able to drown out the annoyingly cheerful birds who were trying to herald the morning against my will.

_Dumbass birds. Can't eat a worm without getting all chirp-fucking happy. _

I buried my head deeper into the pillow and pulled the covers up closer to my neck. Edward was wrapped around me from behind - his hips glued to my hindquarters, one of his hands cupping my breast, his nose buried in my hair. Those strong arms tightened around me convulsively, and I felt the familiar stirrings of arousal as I breathed in his musky morning smell and felt the warmth of his love and body heat. The stirrings in my belly prompted me to arch my back and gently abrade one of my nipples against his forearm.

_Falling into bed naked after showering together has to be the absolute best alternative to wearing pajamas. Mmmmmmm. _

Three things happened at once, it seemed. His palm tightened around me at the same time that his hardness nudged insistently against my thighs. It sounded as though he was mumbling something. My ears perked up.

"Isabella..." His voice was gravelly with sleep, and the sound rumbled against my shoulder blade. Long being a sleep-talker myself, for Edward to do the same thing? Huge opportunity! I held my breath and listened with the intensity of a 911 phone operator.

"Bella....so good, so sweet, have to have you." His hips rocked into me and then withdrew. I felt him inhale deeply from my hair.

"Strawberries...good for...mmmm"

He pressed forward again, slipping closer to what had rapidly developed into a dampness between my thighs. I went from drowsy to ready within moments.

_Can I turn around without waking him? _

_You should probably wake him up, Bella. He won't be happy if you have full sex for the first time and he's not completely aware of what's going on. _

I argued with my conscience while carefully turning in his embrace and kissing his neck.

_Shut up- you stupid moral compass. He already passed the original time frame he gave me! Talk about letting his anxiety turn into a full blown sexual road-block. This may be the only chance I get to let him succeed, fail, whatever! We have to get through this first time without trying to make it into the sentimentally perfect moment of the century. It's sex – not a rocket launch._

I hitched a leg over his hip, and he slid right where I wanted him. His hands did the rest. He cupped his palms over my bottom and pressed forward into my folds.

_Oh my gosh, ohmygosh! Damn, right there._

_Don't moan, or squeak, or make a peep!_

Now his palms were rubbing up and down on my bottom, tracing over the rounded curves, past the crease where my legs began, and then back up to the small of my back. Then he cupped and squeezed what he was holding before he ran the head of his shaft up and down over my clit. I was biting my lip and squeezing my eyes shut at this point to keep from moaning like a phone sex consultant.

The head of his shaft tilted down, and then back up again before he groaned and pressed inside my body.

_Fuck! That's...that's...tight, and it feels all stretched, and Ohmygod, he's not even half way in. Whoever said this would be like a hand inside a glove was fucking crazy! This is more like a giant cucumber trying to fit into a child's sock – Owww!_

I bit down on my lower lip, restraining the whine that wanted to burst forth. I knew if I was whimpering or making sounds of distress, he'd stop, wake up, freak out, and castigate himself. He'd basically go bat-shit crazy on top of his own sexual anxiety. Semi-conscious was the only way to do this. I made a concerted effort to relax every muscle in my body – every muscle around his thick length, and all the muscles in my back and shoulders. His fingers contracted around my bottom again, and he swung back out of me, groaning.

"Tight, fuck, sweet, hot -" His words were disjointed and distorted by sleep. Nuzzling his face into my neck, he kissed up and down the sensitive skin there before panting softly against my ear.

_You can do this, Bella. Press forward! Meet him...Holy Fuck!...half way._

He shifted and glided back inside my body, and my eyes popped open. He, something, no, that ridge I usually sucked on with my mouth was dragging against my most sensitive spot.

By this point, he was making sweeping glides into my body and then back out in slow increments. It was agonizingly drawn-out and achy.

_Oh my God, Edward – do that again. _

I must have said that last part out loud because he began sawing back and forth with his hips, the enlarged head rubbing insistently against my swollen nerve endings.

_Just stay quiet; just stay quiet._

Gasping loudly, I suddenly remembered to breathe. I'd been holding my breath in an effort not to make too much noise. He withdrew again – almost all the way out, before plunging back in with force.

I gasped in an odd mixture of pleasure and pain.

His rhythm picked up. I couldn't stop gasping and panting and moaning. The early flutterings of an orgasm ghosted through my abdomen.

_Intense! So intense!_

I couldn't restrain myself. Peppering kisses up and down his neck, I then tucked my forehead against his shoulder.

_Back out, and then back in. Fuck, he's going to last to the end._

_Oh my everloving...? What was his last clocked time? Six minutes!!! I'm going to have to keep my mouth shut for six minutes of this?! No fucking way._

He squeezed my ass again, shifted his grip and changed the angle of his thrusts.

_How the hell is he going so slowly?_

Once again he withdrew, only to rub the head of his length back and forth against my swollen bud. When he was plunging in again, I knew I was beyond endurance. Before I knew it, my head was thrown back and I was coming all over his thick hardness, clenching, pulling, gripping and milking him for all he was worth. He grunted and began moving rapidly. I knew the exact moment he woke up. His eyes flew open, his gaze hit mine, several emotions registering at once in his expression. There was ecstasy as his pupils dilated, shock at what we were doing, and conflict at his inability to stop himself as he wanted. He grunted, squeezed his eyes shut and thrust rapidly – five staccato bursts of energy, and then he exploded inside me, flooding my body with wet, warm heat and groaning into my neck. I was still experiencing residual clenches.

He lay there, panting for a moment, seemingly drained of the furious vigor from seconds before. His breath made a pattern of steamy advance and retreat against my collarbone. I wasn't going to be the first one to speak; I knew he would be upset.

"What the hell? Bella!" he growled the syllables at me, immediately expecting me to release him and let him withdraw, his anger bursting our post-sex bubble before it had even had a chance to get hazy. My hands latched onto his posterior with equal intensity.

"Don't you dare ruin this. Just....STOP," I growled back at him. His eyes, which had fastened on the ceiling, shot down to mine in surprise. He opened his mouth to yell, or complain, or start a fight, but I wasn't having any of it. Cutting off whatever he might have decided to spout, I covered his lips with my own.

Still pissed off at himself, or me, or the Universe for all I knew, he had his lips pressed into a thin line – no doubt pouting because he wasn't able to orchestrate our first time down to the minutia of his expectations. I squeezed the butt cheeks in my hands and assaulted his mouth. This worked for about three seconds until he got angry again or realized he was stronger than I. Using those ropey muscles in his forearms, he pried my hands away from his butt and slowly, carefully withdrew his softening length from what had felt so ecstatic moments before.

Sighing in exasperation, he ground out, "Why didn't you wake me up, Bella? You had to have known I wouldn't be happy about this."

"How you didn't wake up is beyond me! Holy Duck Fucker, Edward! I had to keep quiet during that!"

"That's not the question I asked you! Why. Didn't. You. Wake. Me. UP!!!"

_He just barked at you, Bella. Fess up or misdirection?_

I ignored his question outright. Instead I hurled a request at him, deciding to be persistent until his granted me this one boon.

"Will you give me something, Edward?" I tried to keep my voice level, devoid of all the frustrated emotion I was feeling.

" Geahhhh!" he burst out. "You still didn't answer my question; don't try to distract me!" He pressed his nose close to mine, and I could see the sparks glittering in his intense green eyes.

"Will you or won't you, Edward. It's not a difficult question. It doesn't require intense thought. But just to put this into perspective for you. I want this one thing more than a birthday gift next fall, more than that necklace you've been secretly bidding for on Ebay, and more than the next ten latin sex phrases you'll inevitably give me. In fact, I'll even agree _not to complain_ about anything you want to buy for me for the next year." I threw that last one in there out of desperation, thinking he would hold onto his mad rather than comply with my request.

"Anything I want to buy you for twelve months?" He seemed to be mulling over the idea in his head before he added in, "I want unrestrained checkbook access and the freedom of at least two gifts a month. You can't complain, in fact, you have to smile and say thank you without giving me any grief at all."

This last bargaining demand made him smile. I don't know whether it was the idea of me accepting the gift without complaint, or if it was the idea of my simply saying thank you that made him grin like a little boy with the newest GI Joe doll.

"One gift a month; I agree not to complain, and you still have checkbook restrictions. Take it or leave it." I folded my arms over my breasts and held my breath – hoping he'd agree.

"Deal. Now, what is it you want?" He actually sounded curious. I guess all the bargaining piqued his interest.

"You can't be mad at me for letting you butt hump me into first time sex, and you have to listen before you go all emo, angsty, ridiculous on me. You let this go right now, and I don't want to hear an argument about how this wasn't perfect." I was proud at how firm my voice sounded. His eyes darted down to my arms still folded over my chest. He rubbed a finger against my wrist until I loosened up a little. Taking each arm by the elbow, he wrapped us up in each other again.

"I can't promise not to ever bring this up again, because that was seriously hot. I reserve the right to remind you of that encounter in the event that I want to talk dirty about it in order to sex you up until you can't remember your name, our geographic location, or what decade it is." I could hear the laughter in his voice.

_Hyperbole much? Sheesh, what an egomaniac! I've created a monster..._

I was torn between sputtering with indignation and giving him a high five for coming so far since our first sexual session for him.

"Fair enough," I muttered before I started snickering. He kissed my forehead.

"Okay. I'm listening, just like you demanded. Lay it on me."

_I have to set this up right, or he'll focus on the wrong thing._

I took his hands in mine and wiggled closer. "Repeat after me, Edward. We're doing one of those lame affirmation things."

"Oh Sheezus," he snarked, rolling his eyes.

"I Edward Masen..."

He repeated the first phrase dutifully.

"Just had hot sex with my girlfriend for the first time." I pronounced the words slowly, maintaining eye contact.

He repeated the second phrase but edited 'hot sex' into 'smoking hot morning sex' with a set of lips failing to restrain that crooked grin.

"I made her come first; I didn't lose my load prematurely, and I am officially a sex-god."

His mouth fell open as he realized the truth in my words. I watched as his head fell back on the pillow with a fluffy fabric-crunching sound.

"I made you come first??" His eyebrows shot up rather high.

"Ayup," I deadpanned with a pucker on my mouth.

"How, how! Fuck! How long was that??" His voice sounded both shocked an eager. Our hands, which were still linked together tightened.

"I didn't have a stopwatch, of course, but I would guess you went several minutes because I was about to lose my mind there." I rolled my eyes and smiled at him.

"Was it.... was it a good one? As good as when I use my hands or my mouth?"

He didn't even have a vulnerable expression on his face. He was so comfortable sharing this post sex evaluation with me – his face was entirely relaxed. I could only hear the vulnerability in his tone of voice. He desperately needed validation that this was a good thing for me.

"Edward...," I gently intoned. "You were there, too. I know you weren't fully awake until your eyes shot open, but think back. Didn't you feel my orgasm clenching your peen this time? I mean, Mister Friendly there probably has his own take on things. I'll give you my two cents' worth, but don't forget your own account of things." I could see the wheels spinning in his head before he settled his head deeper into the pillow.

"Son of a bitch! Your clenches triggered my orgasm... Ha!" he burst out, all triumphant.

"I know!" I crowed back at him. "Can't you understand why I didn't want you to ruin it with your whole 'It has to be perfect or else' crap? Sometimes your unrealistic expectations keep you from seeing even the smallest successes, or big ones for that matter," I stated with a cheeky grin.

"Big ones?" he inquired, pulling me into his newly regenerated erection. Forgetting what we'd just done and the limits of my newly broken-in body, I slithered on top of him and was sliding down onto his hard length when I lost my concentration. I had forgotten the whole stretchy-tight, ouch feeling of a few minutes ago. My focus on getting Edward not to wig out distracted me from the logistics of things.

_Fuckity Fuckus Jones!_

"Yeeeow!" My gasping cry of pain escaped past my lips before I could squash it.

_Okay, so he is much more endowed than my spinny rabbit thing, three of his fingers or anything else that has ventured below. Dammit! Now he's going to-_

"Isabella Marie Masen!" he growled out through clenched teeth. His hands were like iron manacles as he lifted my entire body weight up and off of his thickness. "I hurt you and you didn't even bother to say anything? Shit! Did you bleed? When were you going to mention this?!"

I was already cradled in his arms, like some kind of recalcitrant kitten caught lapping up milk from the wrong dish. He padded down the hallway to the bathroom with the sunken tub. I slapped my hand on the light switch as we walked into the spa-like sanctuary.

_Does he even know he just called me by his last name?_

_Do you like that, or does it give you the willies?_

_There are definitely no willies here. I want him to say it again in his Latin sex voice, in between sucking on my nipples. _

He perched on the edge of the oversized roman tub with me balanced on his knees. Nudging the taps on the faucets until the water coming out was the right temperature, he yanked a towel off the bar, spread it on the counter and and settled me there. He yanked out a drawer from below so I could rest my feet and they didn't dangle.

He stood facing me, his jaw tightly clenched.

_Is he ticked at me or himself? Probably both. Way to go, Bella._

"Lean back and spread 'em." His voice was grim, but his hands were gentle on my thighs as I leaned back onto my palms.

"You're so romantic!"I bemoaned, rolling my eyes.

"Uh, yeah, because letting me sever you in two while I'm not awake is incredibly romantic, Bella. Let's put that on a Hallmark card." His voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Lean back a little. I'm going to tilt your leg up so I can see if you're just really stretched or if you bled, or what." I rested a heel on his thigh and complied, knowing he needed this inspection to set his mind at ease. I felt his thumb on the area that hurt. I hissed before recomposing my features again.

"Stop that! Do you know how much that irritates me?" He sounded supremely angry.

"Stop what? You are seriously unhinged, Edward! I'm fine. A little hot water and an aspirin and I'll be back in fighting form. Aren't you glad we got the potentially painful part over with?"

"I don't want you trying to conceal your discomfort. Don't be brave with me. We're way past that, honey. And you're not fine. You did tear a little bit, and that's exactly what I didn't want to do to you. Not to mention that I never wanted to approach this step with a 'Get it Over With' attitude. You took something away from me, Bella, and I'm allowed to be ticked and..." His voice trailed off leaving the sentence just hanging there.

"And?" I questioned impatiently.

He stubbornly closed his mouth, reverting back to the pissy pout face.

"AND?" I pressed. I really wanted to know what else he was feeling "Listen! I just put my legs in the pap smear position for you. Tell me the other adverb or I'm going to give you a nurple while you're sleeping..." He looked shocked for a moment and then started cracking up.

"Hurt, Bella. It's not a terribly manly thing for me to admit. I think Emmett would revoke my mancard if he heard me even mumble that. I'm hurt because you didn't allow me to be cautious with you. You took away my opportunity to be gentle and caring. Instead, you let me pound into you without preparing properly. It didn't have to be that way, you know. I would have gone so much easier on you if I'd been awake."

"Correction, Edward. We never would have crossed that hurdle if I hadn't let you do your thing."

"SEE! That right there. It was MY thing. It wasn't even about you. And it was supposed to be all about you, Bella. I admire your spirit of self-sacrifice in other things, but not in this.

_He is so frustrating! Perfection is impossible, and this much patience in this area is so totally ludicrous!_

"You can't have it both ways, Edward. It can't be perfect for both of us physically, performance wise, spontaneous and planned, romantic, rough, hot- everything all at once! That is just...too much pressure for any one person, let alone two people like us!"

_There! That was a valid point. He has to see what I'm saying, now._

The water had filled the tub. He got up before kneeling down to rummage through the lower cupboard.

_Say something!_

He returned to the tub with a box of Epsom salts and a cup measure.

_Say something, dammit._

He dosed the water and swirled his foot in the tub, dissolving the crystals under the water.

_Say something, for fuck's sake! God, ignoring someone is usually the first step to walking away._

"What's that for?" I asked, not having seen him use something like that before.

"It's a soaking bath for _injuries_, Bella, and I'm still mad." He turned and walked out of the room. "Get in the tub, please." His parting words were heard from the hall.

_Where is he going?_

_Come back! Oh God, he's so mad, he can't stand to look at me. He's going to go away. What if he is walking out angry like Charlie did after our last fight? What if he doesn't come back?_

Instantly, winning the argument felt stupid. Valid points or no, I didn't want him to have to walk away from me.

_What have you done?_

I ducked my head, knowing that traitorous tears were raining down my cheeks. I sniffled, not wanting to have a red crying face coupled with snot face.

_Who cares about a runny nose, Bella? He's not in here to see you cry. Go ahead and..._

I choked on a sob as it caught in my throat. I slowly got into the tub and sat down gingerly. My head fell into my hands and I still had my head bowed when he returned. I heard his footsteps. My head shot up, hands rubbing the tears down my face.

_Maybe he won't notice._

Two fluffy towels and bathrobes fell to the floor as he walked back into the room and took in my face.

"Are you all right? Does it hurt worse? Talk to me, please." The urgent tone of his voice coupled with his warm palms on my shoulders made my tears run even faster. I was doubting my ability to speak without blubbering, so I wasn't all that eager to respond verbally. I shook my head back and forth.

"No, you're not all right? No, it doesn't hurt worse? Help me out here, Bella." He stepped into the tub behind me, patting my arm until I slid forward to allow him room. A moment later I was surrounded by him again, and he was behind me, giving me a measure of distance from his eyes. I scrubbed at my nose and sniffled.

"I thought you were so mad you couldn't bear to look at me, and then you left the room. I didn't know where you were going, and I..."

"Bella, love – I went to get extra towels. The bathrobes were in the dryer. How did you leap from me being mad to me leaving you? Hell! I'm totally naked, woman, and I just got done telling you that I want to take care of you. That's what I'm doing. Silly, emotionally strung-out woman. Come here."

The warm rumble of his voice and the stubble from his jaw rasped against my back, lulling me into a sense of calm. I allowed myself to relax back against him.

_This whole salty bath thing is actually somewhat lovely. It doesn't smell like anything special, but it feels good._

"Bath salts, huh?"I muttered out loud, my eyes closed. I opened my eyes to see the steam was rising from the water and droplets were gathering on our arms. I rubbed his forearm with my index finger until a rivulet of water trickled off and back into the water.

"Yeah, bath salts. They work." He sighed. His voice wasn't as clipped as before, but it sounded exasperated.

"You weren't supposed to get mad. We made a deal, right?" I was tracing one of the freckles on his forearm with the ridge of my fingernail. He shifted, moving his legs up out of the water, two large, hairy knees rising under my armpits, water gushing over the edge of the tub with a quick splash.

"The deal was that I wouldn't get all mad at myself right? I believe you said no angsty emo nonsense? Nothing was discussed about concern for you, Bella. You know how I feel about your health and safety."

Tucking my knees into my chest, I turned to face him a little. Bracing a hand on his neck, I implored, "But Edward! I honestly didn't know that it was going to hurt when I tried to mount you the second time...!"

"Bella..." he growled.

My eyes dropped down. Suddenly, that little indentation in the middle of his neck was ever so fascinating. I wanted to trace the dip with my tongue.

_I'm a little thirsty. Would he mind if I took a sip from his chest?_

_Focus, girl! No chest sipping!_

He was speaking again.

"You know how you just said I want it both ways? I want it perfect and everything else you said? You have unreasonable demands, too."

"What?"

_Unreasonable demands? What is he talking about?_

"You keep expecting my absolute and utter candid honesty – with my emotions, what I'm thinking, why I'm mad. Hold yourself up to that same standard then, Bella. You conceal way more than you reveal, and yet you are quite insistent that I bare my soul every two seconds. And I'm a guy! Guys don't even acknowledge our feelings exist, dammit."

_He's entirely right. I'm a total hypocrite. I expect him to share like a best girlfriend, but I won't even tell him when he's awake or asleep, if he's hurting me, or if I'm in pain. I totally took advantage of his trust, and he has the right to be royally pissed._

_Tell him that. Tell him that you understand even a little bit why he's so mad._

My eyes wandered up to his. He was waiting patiently for me to look at him. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear with his damp fingers.

"There is a very small part of me that is glad we went there." He took a deep breath and was about to continue when I spoke.

"Before you finish, may I interrupt for just a second?" I glanced up at him quickly and then back down, instead choosing to focus on the slate tiles of the tub enclosure.

_Apologize Bella. It's the right thing to do._

"Edward, I'm really sorry. You make an excellent point. I hold you up to this very high standard of honesty, but am often unwilling to open up in the same way. I let the opportunity of the moment get away with me and broke your trust. Will you forgive me?"

"Finally, you get it," he pointed out with a kiss on the cheek. "You've been this strict since Knott's Berry Farm, you know? And I can't even get you to let me see if you're hurt. It drives me fucking crazy, Bella."

_Strict, huh? That deserves the whole 'pot calling the kettle black' idiom._

"Speaking of strict, Edward..." I watched his face carefully, wondering if he would figure it out before I even said anything.

"That's not the same!"

"It's not?" I said with a smirk.

"I'm only strict with holding back on sex for a very good reason, Bella."

"Um...no, Edward. You're holding back on sex for a dozen different reasons I can't even properly enumerate. The whole four week, six week, give me time thing elapsed back at the holidays, and I've been trying to give you space. Your body wants to be with me just as badly as mine wants to be with you. You need to have sex with me regularly, Edward! You were humping me in your sleep!"

"Yeah, but you sound like you're fond of that kind of behavior, love," he said with a wicked chuckle.

"That's not the point, and you know it."

_I can make a decent verbal volley too, you punk. And turn the snark off!_

"Okay, okay. I get it. You have your side of the argument as well, but the rest of me is still frustrated though, and you can't ask me to ditch those feelings. They don't just fly away. Give both of us some time before you start in on me again."

I started to stutter in protest, knowing he was about to lay down some ridiculous time gauntlet. Knowing his penchant for exaggeration and caution, he probably wouldn't touch me for a month!

"Shhh..." he whispered, leaning forward. His lips were moving against my cheek. "It's only a week. Just don't freak out, okay? We're going to let you heal until we can try that again – all participants fully awake and cognizant for the experience. Now, this next part is important." He paused to let me digest this. "You have to promise to wake me up if I jump you again." He was rubbing my earlobe and nuzzling my neck. My concentration was shot.

I was muttering something about not minding his sleep humping when he pressed a finger over my lips, gently.

"Non-negotiable, Bella. I still have a guest bedroom. You will give me your promise, or I will make up the other bed in the guest room. Nope! Your promise – and a pinky swear to seal the deal."

"Okay, okay. No unauthorized sleepy butt humping until further notice." I wrinkled my nose and linked my pinky finger with his before giving the joined digits a jiggle and release. "Gosh, you drive a hard bargain! Now get out of this tub and start drying off. I have things I want to do with my mouth and your love weapon. You never said anything about oral lovin', Honey Bunny."

He coughed. "Love weapon!!?? Where do you come up with this crap? And please stop quoting _Pulp Fiction_. You know that creeps me out." I looked closely at his cheeks. He stood out of the water, sheets of liquid raining down.

_Is he blushing?_

_Maybe it's the heat of the bath._

"You prefer pleasure lance?" I asked with an entirely straight face, one eyebrow raised. I rose from the tub more slowly, but acting nonchalant. He covered his face with a towel and man-giggled.

_If he's covering up, then he's definitely feeling the heat in his face. I know all about that..._

Lifting his head from the towel after a moment, he asked, "Did you actually read one of those books with Fabio on the cover when you were younger?"

"Ha! Edward. You just admitted to knowing who Fabio is! Wait until Emmett gets a load of this." I danced away from his arms, skipping back toward the bedroom. "Hey! I can imagine the whole conversation, now..."

Poor Edward had a pained expression on his cute face. That one lock of hair was dropping over his forehead as he hung his head down and shook it back and forth.

I pushed out my chest and tried to bellow like Emmett. "'Who the fuck is Fabio, Edward?!' and then we all explain that he's a male model on the cover of trashy romance novels. Then he commences his entire round of gay innuendoes."

Edward looked positively horrified.

"You know I would never do that to you, but think about how he would have a field day with that one."

"I'd rather not, Sweets."

We were both on the bed, towels forgotten on the floor. "Hey, what kind of sheets do you have for the guest bedroom? Are they as fancy as these ones?" I asked, stifling a yawn.

"What's the point, Bella? You're never going to sleep in the guest bedroom." He sounded both puzzled and amused.

"But you said that thing about the guest room and the sheets or something-"

_He is so confusing! Maybe he does it on purpose just to see my forehead wrinkle._

I slapped a hand up to my forehead, feeling for horizontal lines.

_Nope, nothing._

"You think I would make you sleep in the guest room? Bella, I would be in there. You will aways be in here – naked – making sure my bed smells like strawberries and sex. You're hilarious. Guest bedroom..." he trailed off, sounding put out.

"Strawberries and sex, huh?"I asked, reaching over for the tub of body butter on the bedside table. I calmly scooped a generous amount into my palms before moistening my fingers and kneeling in front of his relaxed legs.

"Bella! You pinky swore. We have a sex blockade for one week!"

"Relax, cowboy. I'm using the Bill Clinton definition of sex."

He groaned and bit his lip when I took his length between my slippery fingers. Raising his head up off the pillow he requested, "Just be gentle with my love weapon, hon."

"Aren't I always?" He smiled and let his head fall back on the pillow.

EPOV

Her hands were magic. I leaned back and let my mind wander. What exactly was I dreaming about earlier? That dream was weird and hot and definitely spank-bank material. The whole light/dark thing and the tunnel. How the hell is it that your brain allows you to enter this other dimension where nothing makes sense, and you don't question it? Totally insane.

_'Bella! Where are you?'_

_'I'm in here, Edward.'_

Why was I running through a tunnel? There were no tunnels in my apartment. That's really odd. Geez, it was dark in here. How the hell do I get out, and why was it so damn hot in here? Was Emmett playing a joke on me? It smelled like something died last Wednesday.

_'Edward!'_

_I made it out of the damn cave thing. Thank God! The air was cooler out here – like the ocean breeze. There she was, surrounded by the most brilliant light. It was shimmering all over her in glimmering waves. She was blindingly beautiful. She was all mine. I squinted slightly in the angelic light, trying to take in the details of what I was seeing. Her lips were full and red, her hair was...fuck? How do I describe that? Her hair had a bunch of different colors in it, brought out by the light, no doubt. I stepped closer until I could touch her hair, embrace her, bury my nose in the long strands._

_She giggled when I crushed her in my arms. Her laughter was filled with joy. I nudged her curls away from the bounty of her breasts, tip-tilted, rosy, and proud. My hand reached out to cup one in my palm. It pebbled responsively in my hand, nudging forward, begging to be sucked, licked, tasted._

_'Touch me, Edward. Take me. I'm yours, forever.'_

_'Isabella....I love you so much.'_

_'Then take me, now. I want you to slide in me, right here.' Her hand dipped down into her soft curls indicating right where she wanted me. Her impish grin was infectious._

_She turned in my arms, wiggling her ass up against me. I felt the cheeks of her smooth bottom part as she turned her head and smiled coyly, biting her lower lip._

Fuck...

_'I'm so hot for you, Edward. I'm wet, and aching, and I need you – please!'_

_'Bella you're so good, so sweet. Forgive me, but I have to have you.'_

_'There's nothing to be sorry about. Just fuck me, Edward. Fuck me like you mean it.'_

_I pressed my hips forward into her waiting, tight heat. She teased me by wiggling closer, but not close enough. I pressed forward again. She giggled and turned in my arms, kissing my neck up and down._

_'You're impatient. I want you to go slowly, Edward. I want to feel everything.'_

_She hitched her inner thigh over my hip and arched forward._

_'I'm right here, Edward, waiting for you. Just thrust inside me – here. See how dripping wet I am? I was made for you. Only you can make me this hot.'_

_She lowered her gaze and dipped her hand down into her wetness, delving her fingers all around until the digits were glistening with her arousal. Then she slowly lifted her hand and then her eyes before raising her finger to my mouth and sliding the nectar around on my lower lip._

_'Taste me, Edward. I taste like strawberries. Go ahead and lick my finger- it's good for you; it will give you sustenance – drink of me, fuck me, take me.'_

"_Strawberries are good for me? Mmmmm, that is good.'_

_'Yes, Edward. You need this. Shhhh – no more words. Make me yours.'_

_I pushed forward into her willing, wet heat. It was tight – tighter than a fist, tighter than anything I'd ever felt before. I withdrew and tried again._

_'I can do this.'_

_Sliding forward, I felt the tension give. I was gliding back and forth into pure liquid heat and aching tension._

_'Make this good for her. Make her come -don't fail; don't lose it. Focus.'_

_I slid home again, withdrew and rubbed the rounded curve of my tip against her slippery, pink clit. She was whimpering and moaning, mewling and crying out with passion. I gripped her hips in my hands tightly and started a steady but slow rhythm._

In and out. Back in, and then almost all the way out.

_I felt her tightening all around me. She was saying my name over and over, clawing my back – begging me to go faster now._

_'Tight, so fucking tight. So sweet, so hot.'_

_'Faster Edward! Harder! Please, I need you.'_

_I began to make quick sawing motions back and forth against her upper wall. Her flesh tightened further. I could feel the tension in her body._

A few more strokes. Just a few more – she's almost there. You can hold out; you can last.

_Fluttering pulses shot along my cock as she began to come around me. The pulses got stronger, and faster. She was gripping me, tightly._

_Clenching, milking, tightening and releasing, tightening and-_

My eyes shot open.

She was looking up at me, her face pulled into that familiar expression of loving pain. She bit her lip and gasped.

_This is real! You're having sex with Bella. You're inside her. She's clenching around your dick._

The compulsion to thrust took over, even though I didn't want to, even as I figured out I must have been dreaming. I must have been humping her leg, and she didn't say anything. She let me pound into her like a crazy man. Even now she was moaning and gasping, and I didn't know if she was okay. It was too late for me though. I lost my mind as I sunk into her wet heat again and again, the tension mounting in my arms, my back, my balls. I gasped and clenched my eyes shut as the orgasm ripped through my system leaving me spent and useless. I was still shuddering and pulsing inside her; the spurts of my ecstasy tapering off into the last few jettisons of release. It took several minutes for my heart rate and breathing to slow down enough to fully realize what had just happened.

"What the hell? Bella!" My voice sounded foreign to even my own ears.

_Fuck! What the hell just happened? It wasn't supposed to be like this. This wasn't the way I planned it. I wanted to be conscious, dammit! How much of that actually happened and how much of that was my damn fantasizing perv-tastic self?_

_Stupid Idiot! You should have never agreed to sleep naked when she begged you last night. What were you thinking! You knew this could happen. Are you an epic moron or just deluded?_

"Don't you dare ruin this. Just....STOP," she yelled in her drill-sergeant voice

I was speechless. I opened my mouth to say something, but the word 'ruin' stuck in my head.

_She already knows you're going to fuck this up verbally._

_She's kissing me? Mmmm, she's kissing me. What the fuck? No! We are going to talk about this. No way is she going to totally own my ass and then refuse to talk about anything that just happened. But damn, her tongue, and that swirly thing that she does with her..._

_FOCUS!_

_Dude, she's squeezing my ass. I already have wood again. Shit._

I pulled my hips back quickly before she could notice.

_Take control of this. She had her time; now it's your turn. Think with your brain, not your dick. Your brain, dammit._

I withdrew from her slick heat, the air outside her body cold and not nearly so welcoming. The flesh softened for two heartbeats and then sprang back again.

_Fucking wonder dick! Get back!_

I didn't even bother telling the damn thing to stay down – no use.

"Why didn't you wake me up, Bella? You had to have known I wouldn't be happy about this."

_She couldn't have slept through that could she? If she was sleeping too, then...she didn't break my trust._

"How you didn't wake up is beyond me! Holy Duck Fucker, Edward! I had to keep quiet during that!"

_And there you have it. She deliberately did _not_ wake me up on purpose in order to get what she wanted. I could be so mad at her, but her selfishness is for my body! How can I maintain being pissed off when she desperately wants to jump my bones?_

_Grrrrrr – I don't need a stronger reason; she deceived me, on purpose._

"That's not the question I asked you! Why. Didn't. You. Wake. Me. UP!!!"

"Will you give me something, Edward?"

_You don't get to demand answers! You answer me._

" Geahhhh! You still didn't answer my question; don't try to distract me!" I leaned in closer pinning her with my gaze.

_This is my interrogation! Wait. I'm interrogating her? That sounds..._

_Harsh. Mean. Unbecoming of a gentleman. Huh. What is she saying?_

_Why are you mad again? What's wrong with you?_

_I can't focus. We just fucked like bunnies and that wasn't supposed to happen._

_Yeah! That's why I'm mad. Stupid post-orgasmic euphoria's fucking with my concentration while she's entirely lucid and using that strange, calm tone. Damn. You missed half of what she said._

"_..._In fact, I'll even agree _not to complain_ about anything you want to buy for me for the next year."

_Whoa. This is big – I can buy whatever I want and no major hassle? Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend? Why does she want this so badly?_

_She's actually asking for something. Demanding it of you. Demanding Bella is cute._

"Anything I want to buy you for twelve months?"

_This is not a fair exchange, man. I don't think she wants anything big. She never asks for something big. Are you really going to take advantage of this?_

_Hell, yes._

"I want unrestrained checkbook access and the freedom of at least two gifts a month. You can't complain, in fact, you have to smile and say thank you without giving me any grief at all."

_She's getting a new car and Alice gets a shopping spree for whatever Bella needs. Lord knows she'll never let me do this otherwise._

"One gift a month; I agree not to complain, and you still have checkbook restrictions. Take it or leave it."

_Ha! She thinks she's won! And what's with covering up the boobs? Get back over here._

"Deal. Now what is it?"

"You can't be mad at me for letting you butt hump me into first time sex, and you have to listen before you go all emo, angsty, ridiculous on me. You let this go right now, and I don't want to hear an argument about how this wasn't perfect."

I rubbed a finger against her wrist until she loosened those crossed arms a little. Taking each arm by the elbow, I wrapped us up in each other again. Now that we were properly sandwiched together, I answered her.

"I can't promise not to ever bring this up again, because that was seriously hot. I reserve the right to remind you of that encounter in the event that I want to talk dirty about it in order to sex you up until you can't remember your name, our geographic location, or what decade it is." I couldn't help chuckling at my exaggeration.

"Fair enough," she muttered, snickering. I planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Okay. I'm listening, just like you demanded. Lay it on me."

_She looks like she's preparing for a speech or a debate._

"Repeat after me, Edward.

_Crap. Here we go again._

"We're doing one of those lame affirmation things."

"Oh Sheezus," I remarked.

"I, Edward Masen..."

_Why does this feel like wedding vows?_

_Not that I would mind..._

_Fuck, what am I saying...thinking...whatever?_

_Hmmm...Bella Masen...Edward and Bella Masen...has a nice ring to it..._

_She said it was hot sex! Hot sex is good. Fucking-A. That was smoking hot morning sex, baby._

"...just had smoking hot morning sex with my girlfriend for the first time." I pronounced the words slowly, maintaining eye contact with her.

_Wait, wait, wait a minute. We had sex...check. She came first....FUCK!!! SHE CAME FIRST. I DIDN'T BLOW IT!_

_I AM A SEX GOD – thank you Universe, deities, stars, New Age religion, Bible Belt religion, anything with control over fate, destiny, or epic fuck-ups like myself!_

_Dude- get it together; your mouth is totally hanging open._

I fell back on the pillows, totally forgetting my being mad in the face of her truths.

"I made you come first??"

_Shock. Utter shock._

_Shit. I made her come first and my eyes weren't even open to watch every second of it._

_Uh, man - that's probably how you pulled it off. Reduction of sensory overload. Dad talked about this, remember?_

"Ayup," she said in a silly tone of voice, her lips all kissable.

"How, how! Fuck! How long was that??" I had to know if that was as good as our sessions. I squeezed her hand, waiting.

"I didn't have a stopwatch, of course, but I would guess you went several minutes because I was about to lose my mind there."

_Losing her mind is desirable. I love that smile._

"Was it.... was it a good one? As good as when I use my hands or my mouth?"

_Shit. Did my voice just crack?_

"Edward....," she gently whispered. "You were there, too. I know you weren't fully awake until your eyes opened, but think back. Didn't you feel my orgasm clenching your peen this time? I mean, Mister Friendly there probably has his own take on things. I'll give you my two cents' worth, but don't forget your own account of things."

_Hot. Hot. Clenching, squeezing, balls tightening. Her body gripping you – losing your load inside of her sweet heat. Coming together._

"Son of a bitch! Your clenches triggered my orgasm... Ha!" I burst out.

"I know!" she shouted back at me. "Can't you understand why I didn't want you to ruin it with your whole 'It has to be perfect or else' crap? Sometimes your unrealistic expectations keep you from seeing even the smallest successes, or big ones for that matter," she stated with a cheeky grin.

_Big ones. My big dick, her big orgasm._

_And we have instant wood. That makes annoying erection number two. Shall we bet on three?_

I blinked and she was sliding on top of me. Her balance was shaky. Her thighs must be shot; she slid down and then yelped in pain.

_Oh no!_

_Oh yes she did. She f-ing hurt herself, which means I hurt her earlier and she SAID NOTHING AGAIN. Gahhhhh._

"Isabella Marie Masen!" I growled at her. "I hurt you and you didn't even bother to say anything? Shit! Did you bleed? When were you going to mention this?"

I had her off of me and swung into my arms in two seconds flat. The girl doesn't weigh much.

Bathroom is only a few steps away. Soaking bath - great for sport's injuries and torn flesh.

_Torn flesh. This is killing me. I did this to her._

_I know she doesn't have a hymen-virgin thing. I've been up in there too many times. Hell, she has that rabbit dildo, too._

_Doesn't matter. Consider her size. Consider your girth. She's never stretched that big before, and you were fucking in la-la-land, unconsciously fuck-humping her._

_I can't trust myself around her._

_Apparently you can't trust her to speak up, either._

I felt my face settling into that grim, hard expression. I tried to relax for a minute, but the anger came back.

_Are you more angry at her or at you?_

_I don't know! It's a tie, dammit. Fuck off._

_Our first time having sex was supposed to be special and romantic._

_Well, this was special, that's for sure._

_Yeah, especially painful for her._

I turned on the water and settled her on counter, a towel under her hips.

_How bad is it? I'm going to have to check. I can't handle not knowing._

_If I fucking made her bleed and tear..._

"Lean back and spread 'em," I said bluntly.

"You're so romantic!"she protested, rolling her eyes.

_Now, she wants romance. Honestly, Bella. You make me dizzy._

"Uh, yeah, because letting me sever you in two while I'm not awake is incredibly romantic, Bella. Let's put that on a Hallmark card."

Pressing a thumb to move her lower lip just a bit, I heard a hiss.

When I looked up, I just caught an expression of pain before her face was again bland and composed.

_Did I hurt her more? Well, you wouldn't know because she's fucking hiding every facial expression from you._

"Stop that! Do you know how much that irritates me?"

"Stop what? You are seriously unhinged, Edward! I'm fine. A little hot water and an aspirin and I'll be back in fighting form. Aren't you glad we got the potentially painful part over with?"

_It's as though she's lying with her face. Facial dishonesty. Who taught her that? Where did this mask to conceal her emotions come from?_

"I don't want you trying to conceal your discomfort. Don't be brave with me. We're way past that, honey. And you're not fine. You did tear a little bit, and that's exactly what I didn't want to do to you. Not to mention that I never wanted to approach this step with a

'Get it Over With' attitude."

I sighed in defeat.

_She doesn't get it._

"You took something away from me, Bella, and I'm allowed to be ticked and..."

"And?" she questioned impatiently.

_Why does she think of herself this way - as expendable, readily damaged, and it doesn't matter? If I could just get inside her head for five minutes I might have a clue._

"AND?" she pressed for more information. The irony was not lost on me. She wanted inside my head too, but wouldn't share in the same way. "Listen! I just put my legs in the pap smear position for you. Tell me the other adverb or I'm going to give you a nurple while you're sleeping..."

_She knows what a nurple is? _

I was laughing again – shocked, but laughing.

After our soothing-the-kitty bath and more or less heated conversation about what had occurred, our back and forth arguing interrupted only by a panicked moment of Bella misunderstanding my intentions, we ended up lying on my bed again, at that moment busily engaging in another round of choking the snake. Well, Bella was busy while I reaped the benefits of her skilled ministrations.

I must have been laughing when I was brought out of my reverie by her voice in my ear.

"Um, Edward. I don't think you're supposed to laugh while I'm doing this." She sounded amused and puzzled. Her strawberry-creamed fingers were gliding up and down my shaft. It was torrid torture; it was pure pleasure; it was everything Bella represented to me.

I gasped and moaned.

"Fuck, Bella. Mmmm. I was remembering my dream..."

I swore and panted before I could continue. She graciously slowed down a little so I could speak.

"... when I attacked you and then I thought of your nurple comment. Ungnnnnh! God, yes, so good."

"So your mind was wandering, Mr. Masen? I must not be doing this right."

She constricted her hand a little tighter around my shaft and then manipulated the foreskin up and down in little strokes just over the head.

_Motherfucker! I'm gonna...!_

"Bella, can you squeeze? I'm about to..." She immediately moved her hand down to the base and paused there, applying direct pressure.

"Don't want to come yet, sugar?" she had a sexy grin in her voice. I didn't even have to raise my head to imagine her expression. I thought of it as 'the cat that licked the cream' face. I must have been smiling again.

"What is it this time? Your smile is bigger than Texas, cowboy."

"Just imagining your happy face, Bella. Your smile is contagious."

She kissed my thigh and sped up her motions until I joined the ranks of satisfied men floating above their bodies in celestial sexual satisfaction.

**AN: **

**There are a few a tidbits of symbolism in Insatiable Sexward's dream sequence. If you want to put your literary analysis caps back on, it would give you something to chat about in reviews or on the Twilighted FTT thread.**

**If you don't know what a nurple is, then you probably don't have brothers like I did. A nurple is basically a titty twister, some weird homo-erotic rite of passage among teenage boys which makes zero sense to me. Having three brothers, they were always inventing new ways to injure each other over the slightest offense. Oh and it's a combination of two terms: purple and nipple = nurple.**

**I have a popover outtake that I might post soon. It's the chapter that refused to be written over the hiatus. When I finally ditched that idea, this chapter came.**

**I'm five days from my due date to give birth to my first child. Don't start stalking my inbox, please. It will most likely be a little while before you get another chapter. **

**Thanks for reading, and let me know if you'd rather be a 'Duck Fucker' or an 'Insatiable Sexward Hoor', or something else if you have a better idea! TwilightMomofTwo, beta extraordinaire, suggested 'Fuck Ducker' because of Edward's propensity for nookie avoidance. So that leaves the voting to three. Please, please vote! It takes three seconds. **

**Works Cited:**

**Merriam Webster Online Dictionary: Serendipity**

**The Free Dictionary by Farlex: Serendipity**


	22. OT: Popover Heaven and Mickey Mouse Hell

Outtake: Popover Heaven and Mickey Mouse Hell

BPOV

I finished whisking the custard mixture over low heat before adding the lemon zest and juice. The popovers were in the oven and browning nicely – the tops exceeding the tins, the gentle warmth from the oven heating the apartment.

"You can start on egg detail if you'd like," I called from the kitchen. He was on my laptop in the bedroom. I heard his footsteps padding closer. I'd already washed up most of the mess I'd made cooking.

"Scrambled, fried, basted, or poached?" he inquired while peering into the cupboard for a pan.

"You know how to baste an egg?" I returned with some curiosity, my hands buried in soap suds.

"That doesn't answer my question," he persisted.

"How about you surprise me?" I offered before placing the last dish in the washer and drying my hands on a towel.

"Thank God! Scrambled, it is." I couldn't contain the laughter at his egg arrogance or his obvious lack of know-how. I was distracted from dishwashing mid-giggle, the towel covering my snickers as I stopped to get plates from the shelf.

"Why on earth did you offer if you don't..." I was cracking up again.

"I could probably figure it out!" he protested vociferously. "Poaching involves water, I think...it's like you give the eggs a bath or something, and basting...involves either a pastry brush or a turkey baster, Fuck! I don't know! They're eggs – you crack them, you cook them – it's not that hard," he finished, sounding inordinately pleased with his logic.

"What was the name of your cook growing up?" I asked quickly.

"Afton was the chef, and his wife Chelsea was the housekeeper – hey!" He spun around looking shocked that I'd tricked him into revealing more of his privileged upbringing.

"It's okay that you have only basic skills when it comes to eggs. It's rather nice to find something you've not perfected! You already rock my world at so many other... Let me have this one thing!"

Before I knew what was what, he had me pressed up against the counter, his nose cool against the sensitive skin of my neck.

_Oh God, I have no defense against that!_

"I rock your world?" His voice rumbled against my shoulder.

"My world is definitely in motion now, yes." My voice failed me and sounded like a pathetic squeak.

"You want me to baste your eggs?" He was kissing his way around to the other side of my neck, and I could barely think straight.

_Is that some kind of weird sex joke?_

_Is it pathetic that I think it's hot to visualize him basting my eggs? Though the imagery that comes with it is just a bit disturbing._

I peered up at him, my brow arched in question. "Do you really want me to start calling it a turkey baster? I thought we already had that conversation about your chicken."

"I've created a monster!" He sounded put out and amused at the same time. "You're officially better than I am at creating food-related sexual innuendos. Anyhow, if you call it a turkey baster, then that would make you the turkey, right? I'm one hundred percent okay with that." He smirked at me, happy to have turned the tables. I resorted to a full-frontal attack with the damp dish towel. He was ducking and stealing kisses when the timer on the oven dinged. I wiggled out of his arms to take the tray of popovers out of the oven.

"Better get going on some kind of eggs, buster, or we won't have any!" I took my paring knife and cut small slits in the top of the pastries, allowing them to release steam and cool off.

EPOV

The popovers were amazing. The smell alone made my mouth water. She pulled them out of the oven as I scooped eggs onto two dishes. While they baked, she had whipped up two sauces. One was a lemon cream, and the other was a blended raspberry sauce. Settled with plates of food at the bar, she showed me how to eat them. Grabbing one with a potholder, she pushed the top off. The inside of the pastry was a tangled web of light, soft dough. She scooped a spoonful of each sauce inside and passed it over to me.

"Do I just bite right in?" I asked, slightly wary.

"It will still be warm, but it shouldn't burn you or anything," she explained.

_I'm dying to know what this thing tastes like._

I took a tentative bite; the popover was flaky and buttery on the outside, but soft and tender on the inside.

_I've died and gone to heaven_. _Death by popover_. _What a way to go_.

"Oh…muh…God, Bella!" I mumbled around the explosion of tart, sweet pastry in my mouth. "This is amazing!"

_Whoa, how come I've never heard of these before?_

She just blushed and sipped her coffee. She hadn't made one for herself yet.

Three popovers and two cups of coffee later, I had officially made a pig of myself.

_Fuck, that was worth it._

"I can see why you would only make that for specific people…," I finally realized out loud.

"Oh?" she returned, sounding curious, resting her cheek on her hand.

"Once someone knows that you can make that stuff, they'll haunt your doorstep forever. It's not something to be taken lightly," I finished before setting down my empty coffee mug.

"I don't know why I don't make them very often. I guess the recipe makes too much for one person, and I never have the time to make a big breakfast." With that last statement, she rose from her stool to place her dishes in the sink.

We spent a few minutes straightening things in the kitchen and setting the dishwasher to run. After putting the last item back into the fridge, I wandered over to the coffee table, noticing a stack of mail lying there. A pair of mouse ears was emblazoned across the corner of one of the envelopes, and I immediately knew the contents.

"I know what we're going to do today," I announced suddenly.

"Oh, really? Please, oh please do let me in on those plans." She grinned at me, drying her hands on a towel, then came over to the lumpy couch to sit near me.

_She might actually have things to do, you juvenile nitwit. _

"Well, if you have any matters of business to take care of, like errands or homework, of course we'll give you time to do that…."

She raised an eyebrow, prompting me to continue. I held up the envelope with her annual pass to Disneyland.

"We have a date tonight riding attractions intended for small children," I explained solemnly. "It's a very important dating ritual for couples in love."

"Couples in love have to go to a sticky amusement park and listen to children crying over the Dumbo ride? I'm so lost, Edward. What's the rationale behind this scheme of yours?" I could tell by the bemused expression on her face that she actually liked the idea, and was merely forcing me to create an argument for why we should trek around a child's playground.

"Well, it's a complicated courting ritual. I'm not sure I can reveal all of the ramifications to you at this point. We should merely follow tradition and not ask too many questions."

"You just want to walk off those popovers you just ate."

_She is snickering at me! Damn, woman. You're the one that fed me the heavenly breakfast. It's my job to get us off this couch for once._

"Pretty much. Aside from actually going to the gym, this is the next best thing."

"Do you still want me to pack a box to take over to your place?"

_Maybe I can pack a box too, just to help her out._

_Yeah, no ulterior motive there at all, Cullen._

_What? I'm just being a gentleman. Helping my woman._

_Besides, the more boxes we take, the sooner she'll be living with me full-time._

_As I said, no ulterior motive at all. None._

"Absolutely. I need to change my clothes, and I want something of yours in a drawer or a closet. Both would be better. Oh, and I stole one of your extra toothbrushes. I hope you don't mind." I rested my head on her shoulder, brushing messy hair into her neck, seeking absolution for this 'offense'.

"I think I can spare the extra one forty-nine," she quipped with a roll of her eyes. "Just leave it here; we might be back to move stuff or whatever. Did you already get your pass in the mail?"

"I don't know… I set it on the entry table, but I've not had a chance to look at it. Either way, we can both get in. I still have the barcodes from a few weeks ago." I raised my eyebrows at her, and wiggled the envelope. I wanted to open it, but didn't know if she would mind.

"Go ahead," she affirmed.

"We'll have to have our photos taken and they'll give us the more durable card." I handed her the brochures and tore the paper card out of the perforation. She glanced at the card when I handed it to her and then eyed the pages describing the amenities of the membership.

"Of course you got us the premium membership. Oh my…..Edward! This thing was over four hundred dollars? Per person? Damn! Why is it so expensive? I thought it these things were a hundred bucks or so."

_Is she freaking out about money again, or is this just regular sticker shock?_

_Do I defend myself or take this in stride?_

_Oh, hell. Just explain why you got the better membership._

"My research online a couple of weeks ago persuaded me to getting this membership instead of the cheaper ones. Now, hold on! Let me explain before you get put on your banker's cap and try to do a boyfriend audit. Relax. It all makes sense, Bella."

"This stuff is so expensive it should come with a liver transplant! Honestly, Edward."

"That comment was horrifying, Bella. Do you really want... Hey! You're distracting me again." I sighed, trying to gather my thoughts. "They have these blackout dates where even though you have a pass, on certain days you can't get into the park without paying another fee. I didn't want to have to hassle with which days we could go and which ones we couldn't. This one comes without any blackouts, but with free parking and discounts – after we go to the park two or three times, it's paid for itself. I've decided you're not allowed to worry about this stuff because it's sucking all the excitement out of it. I was all revved up about your membership coming in the mail and then you just…Can't you pretend you're a little kid and this is just a ticket to the fair?"

"It's just a ticket to the fair? I don't understand." She looked honestly confused.

"It's like it's not real money…It's like tokens! You play, and it's fun, and it doesn't matter." I took a quarter out of my pocket and held it up. "This is not a quarter, Bella. It's actually a token. You put it in the machine and you play, and tickets come out. Weren't you ever a kid that thought like this?" I tried to conceal the baffled puzzlement in my voice, but failed.

"Well, no. Money was always tight with my mom, and like I said, my dad never took me places like this. Your parents actually let you have money, and you played with it like money didn't matter? We had such different childhoods, Edward."

"I guess you have a point."

_Way to make her realize how opposite you are, dude. Try not to rub your privileged upbringing in her face – not a good plan._

"Edward, I learned at age four not to ask my mom for a pack of gum at the grocery store because she didn't have the extra money for it, and it made her look sad. I just knew not to ask." She sighed dejectedly at the sad childhood memory.

"Shit, my dad would let me pick several packages of gum just to find out which one was the best." He sounded baffled about this glimmer of self-realization.

"Some of us wish for gum, and some of us are swimming in it," I philosophized, having already resigned myself to this reality from a young age.

_Am I an insensitive shithead for asking her to pretend money doesn't matter when money has actually mattered her whole life?_

_No, you're not a shithead; you're going to give her an evening of fun where money doesn't matter. It's a cool thing. A lot of people never get to do that._

"Can you try not to freak out and run a tab in your head - for me? Honestly, it gets exhausting having to account for every thought that even remotely relates to money. I just don't think about it at all. You attribute this spendthrift quality to me that's not there. It simply doesn't occur to me."

"I guess I can do that, but it goes against every instinct I have. I have this cheapskate calculating money freak in my head. I'm the kind of person who will spend ten minutes in the cracker aisle trying to figure out which saltines are the cheapest. I mean, they're saltines! Who cares? It's a compulsion – I can't help myself." The laughter that escaped her lips was wry with amusement and frustration.

"Okay. I want you to play a game with me tonight, Bella. Here are the rules." I thought rather quickly imagining all the scenarios where she might get sticker shock or urge me not to buy something. "Number one, you must ask for two things for me to buy you tonight. You are not allowed to look at the price tags. If you are caught looking at a tag, then that item is forfeit and you can't have it.

_As if I wouldn't let her have something…too funny._

"But it's part of the shopping process to look at prices." She sounded legitimately confused about this factor.

I shook my head firmly, like a cop or a drill sergeant. "Nope. That's the rule. Number two, I am allowed to spontaneously buy you anything I want tonight, and you can't get mad, wig out, or tell me not to buy it."

"Fuck! That's going to drive me insane, Edward! Are you trying to kill me?"

_A gold-digger, she is not. I think that's a bead of sweat on her forehead. She is stressing out at even the idea._

I pulled her tense form onto my lap and tucked her head under my chin. She sighed and relaxed until her body was boneless against mine.

"This is supposed to be fun? Why am I so screwed up when it comes to money? We are such polar opposites in so many ways! First sexually, and now financially. What gives? Is this even normal?"

"You're kidding, right? We just connected the fact that I can go for hours….with who knows how many orgasms you'll have when you're not crazy tired. The sexual incompatibility thing is now a laughable concept for us. We're perfect for each other. Financially? You're the yin to my yang. I probably want to spend too much and you rein me in. You are a gorgeous woman with the mentality of a miserly curmudgeon, and I'll break you out of your shell. See? Win-win, all around."

_There! You just proved that you belong together. She has to like that!_

"Ah, don't forget. You're the eternal optimist, and I'm the pessimist. Curmudgeon, huh?" She pursed her lips and her eyes flicked back and forth from my mouth to my eyes.

"Yep."

I planted a smacking kiss on her lips, not wanting things to progress until I was humping her leg.

_My beautiful, hot, sexy, sweet, curmudgeon._

"You, sir, are a profligate wastrel, then."

I clutched my chest, pretending to have been stabbed. "Ouch! What does that even mean?"

_I thought mine was bad. Where does she come up with this stuff?_

"Something along the lines of a shameless waster of money. I don't really mean it – I was just trying to come up with one as good as curmudgeon." Apparently the smacking kiss from before was not enough because she pushed me back into the sofa cushions and instigated a real kiss with lip nibbling and a hint of tongue before coming up for air.

_Aha! She liked it. I'll have to read an 18__th__ century dictionary in addition to that Latin textbook. She's right – this may be the strangest courtship ever._

"If I read 'Oliver Twist' and cracked Dickens jokes all the time, would that turn you on?"

She pretended to think about this very deeply. She was tapping a finger on her chin. "Well, I don't think it would make my panties wet, but it might give me warm fuzzies, which will likely lead to the other. So yes, I would have to say that might do it for me."

She was still in my arms, so it wasn't very difficult to reach her neck. I placed a soft kiss on the smooth column of her throat. After the first kiss, I raised my head and gazed at her soulfully, saying, "Please Miss, may I have another?" She burst into giggles and tilted her neck for better access.

We canoodled on the couch for a few minutes before getting up to accomplish something with the day.

After a quick errand to one of the greatest stores on earth, we took our ten-pack of cardboard boxes back to her apartment to gather some of her things. At the checkout counter, I could tell she was dying to take out her wallet and pay for the purchase, but I distracted her by asking, "Hey, is that the newest Martha Stewart Living? Why is she featuring cupcakes again?!" I tried to sound genuinely put out, but actually ended up sounding ridiculous. Luckily, she didn't notice.

It was adorable; Bella got all worked up discussing baking methods, paper cupcake holders versus silicone bakeware, buttercream frosting versus flavored fresh whipped cream. We were out of the store; I was trying to restrain the giant grin on my face, but I couldn't do it. I started cracking up.

"Hey! Why are you laughing!?" She was all puzzled and cute, her forehead doing that puppy-wrinkle thing.

_Oh geez, that was too easy. There is no way I'm owning up to that. I could probably pull that one off a few times before she figures it out._

"It's really not anything important, you're just really passionate about cupcakes. I mean, you could write a master's thesis on them." I wrangled the large set of flattened boxes into the trunk while she pushed the cart into the corral a few steps away.

She started muttering under her breath. "You give a man a couple of your popovers and Sexy Green Eyes here starts getting all cocky about the baked goods." I helped her into the car and gently closed the door before walking around to the driver's side. I settled into the seat and placed the key in the ignition. She was looking out the passenger's window.

"Sexy Green Eyes, huh?" I teased, hoping to get her to face me again.

"You know, it's a really good thing that I love you. Anyone else would be clutching something in pain by now." She was pouting, but I could tell it was more bluff than bite.

I steered her chin over toward mine and lay the softest of kisses on her sweet mouth.

"It's more than a good thing, Bella. It's absolutely wonderful."

**AN: So there you have it: the chapter from hell, or the chapter that almost made it into the waste bin. This is the drabble that stalled me for seven months. It simply refused to go anywhere. It felt like utterly pointless nonsense.**

**A few more things just in case you're curious...**

**Edward does Not know how to baste an egg, and that bit won't make any sense unless you know about egg basting. There are no turkey basters involved and definitely no pastry brushes. He knows that he likes basted eggs, but someone has always made them for him- poor baby! Scroll down for egg basting instructions if you're puzzled.**

**Did you figure out what is the greatest store on earth to Edward? I know this is disturbing, but it's Home Depot of course. Don't forget that Insatiable Sexward is a building contractor/ architect in training. He loves the smell of carpentry dust and bright orange metal shelving. As a female, I can't relate at all. There are probably some women out there who get this, but that place bores me out of my mind.**

**How to baste two eggs:**

**The pan is actually rather important. You need a 6" non-stick skillet that is relatively new. Heat the pan to medium-high; add a tsp of butter or oil. Swirl it around; add the two eggs. They'll cook nicely on the bottom, but the tops will still be wiggly. When the eggs are solidifying, but the yolks are still runny, you take the pan to the sink and add a 1/2 inch of water, which will sizzle and hiss. Then you turn off the heat, cover the pan with a lid and let it sit for a minute or two. The tops will cook evenly turning opaque, and the water will almost rinse the grease off the eggs. Drain out the water and slide onto a plate and serve. My hubby loves them this way, and is inordinately proud that he now knows how to baste an egg. He eagerly displays this skill whenever we have brunch guests, and plays it off as though he's known it his whole life. It always cracks me up inside because I taught it to him, and he loves to take all the credit on his own. He's like a little kid sometimes.**


	23. Regrets, Regressions & Remedies

**A/N: **

**I Don't own any literary characters belonging to Ms. Meyer.**

**Babynerd thanks you for your patience.**

Chapter 22: Regrets, Regressions & Remedies

BPOV

Migraine headaches are debilitating. I hadn't had one in over eighteen months, and happily enough, I'd even stopped thinking of myself as a person who gets them. The incidents started after the fiasco on the dance floor with Erik Yorkie. I was stressed out all the time, worried that I would meet someone from the club and have to listen to tactless comments – 'Hey! Aren't you the girl who spazzed out on the dance floor?' or false sentiments of concern from a stranger.

The stress carried over into my school work, and before I knew it, my shoulders always seemed to be hovering around my ears as tension continued to build in my neck muscles until I'd get one of those three-day monster headaches accompanied by nausea, sensitivity to light, and energy-draining pain that began in my eye sockets and eventually wrapped around my head in a halo of torture.

Several doctor's appointments and many prescriptions later, I discovered Imitrex, which taken at the right time, would save me days of suffering. The pain receded to a dull throb, and I could still function – mostly.

This was why I'd never mentioned the headaches to Edward. There wasn't a reason to mention them. I wasn't having those episodes any more. If anything, our antics in the bedroom, or the couch, or the shower seemed to have lowered my stress levels even further, until our recent problems with actually having sex. For some reason, we'd even pulled back on fooling around. Well, more accurately, _he_ had. The irony was that I'd gone years without having an orgasm. Now, my body expected them regularly. The frigid girl was irritated when her boyfriend wasn't getting her off enough.

_Ha!_

_This is why you have a rabbit and why you're supposed to use it._

_It's not the same. I miss Edward, dammit. This sex embargo, blockade, whatever the hell you call it, is fucking ridiculous. _

_I may not be the most patient person in the world, but even someone with the patience of Job would throw her hands up by now. _

_Okay, scratch that, I AM definitely not Job. I am rather the most impatient person in the world. _

_One whole fucking week. What the hell was I thinking, agreeing to that? _

_Wait, I don't actually remember agreeing, more like being run over by the stubborn rhinoceros that is my boyfriend. _

_No-sex-ward._

_Shoot, at this point, I'd settle for some dry-humping._

_Harrumph. Dry-humping. Why do they even call it that? Both parties inevitably get wet. It really should be called wet-humping._

_Oh, well yeah, I guess that would be sex then._

_LIKE I WOULD KNOW!_

I was able to conceal my frustration most of the time. If he could have heard the thoughts in my head, we would have had serious problems. Biting my tongue was keeping us from getting into petty fights all the time.

Edward never got around to fixing the bed in the second room because I'd decided to respect his request. I cooperated with his need to wear pajamas to bed, I wasn't trying to jump him every five seconds, and I was behaving modestly instead of showing excess skin as I'd taken to doing since the holidays. He had persisted in delaying our lovemaking which had frustrated me to no end.

Since our first time having sex, we'd made it through Thursday without a fight, but the tension was thick, and I knew that something would happen this weekend, either good or bad. Hopefully, it would be good, and we would get to have completely conscious sex without as much pressure or stress since he had one "success" under his belt, although he didn't view it the same way I did.

The fact that I was hurt, even slightly, really bothered him. I felt fully healed since Tuesday night, but he was sticking to the one week sex blockade for whatever reason. My best guess was that it was partly out of regard for me and partly habit. He'd put off having sex for so long that it was almost second nature for him to avoid it.

My frustration with Edward's exquisite self-control, or fear, or whatever one wanted to name his ability to compartmentalize so thoroughly, had brought out some bold behavior on my part. The worst I'd done to him prior to this most recent disaster, at least in my mind, was the pale blue silk lingerie set I'd asked Alice to track down for me.

Feeling determined one afternoon after months of his delaying tactics, I'd called Alice and given her a task – one that I knew she would enjoy fulfilling. I honestly hadn't thought it was that bad. Sadly, I'd underestimated the effect of that decision.

_It wasn't even a thong! The underwear covered my entire butt and the matching bra was ordinary! It wasn't even a push-up, demi anything. _

What I'd neglected to factor into that decision was the _fabric -_ it was silky, stretchy silky. Edward was a very tactile person. His aunt had shown me his baby blankie, which she still kept in a chest, oddly enough, in the entryway to their gorgeous home. The blanket had this satin trim around the edge. It was threadbare and frayed, the cotton batting showing through on every corner, the stitching around the satin scratched to threads by little Edward's clutching hands. I hadn't made a connection between my lingerie set and Edward's penchant for silky things. So, when I'd inadvertently showed off the set for him after my shower one night in early January, I couldn't figure out for the life of me why he'd behaved so strangely.

Alice had asked me to try the set on, make sure everything fit, and report back to her the results. I tried the set on, and got sidetracked by my wet hair. I had every intention of putting it back in the bag for later. I was combing out my still damp hair after a brief blow dry when Edward asked me a question. It was a "would you rather" question, although far more innocent than the usual variety.

"Bella!" I heard his voice from the drafting table in the extra bedroom. He was working on something for his class next semester. Rather than grab my robe which was buried somewhere, or the towel that was all wet, I padded down the hall to the spare room and answered him from the doorway.

"Yep?" I responded. He spoke without turning around.

"Would you rather have a wrap-around porch on your dream home, or a balcony from the master bedroom?" He had a happy tone in his voice, like he was enjoying the creativity of the assignment.

"Well, that depends," I answered. "Is this a hypothetical dream home, or a decision about where I'd like to actually live? I mean, how big is the veranda and how big is the balcony? Is it like four feet? Six feet? Massive enough for a hot tub?"

"A hot tub on the porch?" he questioned, turning around, one eyebrow quirked.

"No, silly..." I said as he finished the turn from his desk. His eyes traveled up my body, then down again before he stood, quickly. I gasped and didn't finish my thought because his facial expression altered so rapidly, it was difficult to catalog the changes all at once. The look in his eyes was dark, fierce and primal. His eyes were almost black and dilated, he was already halfway across the room before I could form a coherent thought and his hands were out, reaching toward me, clenching the air.

Suddenly he halted. Through gritted teeth and with eyes squeezed shut, he ground out, "Step back three steps, please."

"But Edward, I..." stuttered out in shock and surprise, yet moving back as he'd asked.

The door closed softly in my face and I heard the lock engage.

"...don't understand." I was speaking to thin air when I heard something thud against the door.

_What was that?_

Then I remembered my clothing, or lack thereof.

_Think, Bella, even you know this is too much. He needs warning or a more gradual transition. You know his control has been sketchy lately. Guh! So stupid._

I'd only ever worn my ordinary cotton under things around him. The most risqué thing he'd ever seen me in was the first time we'd showered together, and I'd been sporting my cartoonish South Park undies, or the various silly prints he'd come to love. He knew what was coming and had been prepared to see me disrobe. Having his girlfriend appear in the doorway wearing a Victoria's Secret Satin set with no warning?

A bit too much for him, apparently.

I heard another thud, an agonized groan, and then the treadmill's low hum followed by the sound of pounding footsteps.

_Treadmill? But it's almost ten – he doesn't usually run this late. He hasn't done this since..._

_Son of a Toothless Witch, Bella! You just triggered his disorder, apparently in a bad way. That door in the face? Probably closed to protect you, in his mind._

Even if we wanted to try to use a sexual encounter as an intervention for his current condition, he was too far gone. His control was shot, and he would be too concerned for my well-being to let me anywhere near him in his current state.

_Fuckity fuck. Great going, Bella. This will set you back again!_

He'd once told me over coffee about the bombardment of sexual images that flooded his mind when he was triggered by something. It sounded overwhelming, like a film representation of forced video brainwashing with eyes pried open. It was a fierce struggle to clear the images out of his head once they started. The best thing for him was a physical and mental distraction, and he was already working on that.

I'd padded back down the hall to find a long sleeve shirt and shapeless, loose yoga pants. That night, he never came back to bed.

I'd cried myself to sleep, feeling guilty and worried about him. In the morning, things had been tense. The following evening, I put the lingerie back into the bag and shoved it up to the top of the closet behind a box. I didn't want to throw it away, but I also had not wanted the reminder of that night any time soon.

My memories were interrupted by two people entering the vet's office. It was the morning shift. I was filling in for Julie for the week, which enabled me to log some extra hours. I didn't really enjoy working the front desk, but I'd done it before, and it was pretty much a no-brainer. The doorbell jingled as the older man and teenage girl came in with a golden retriever on a leash.

"Good morning," I greeted them with a smile. The father, I assumed, stepped forward with the animal, indicating he had an appointment. I showed him into one of the exam rooms. The young lady settled onto a bench with a dramatic sigh and quickly began fiddling with her phone. Before they came, I'd been woolgathering, thinking about Edward as I stared off into space. I snapped myself out of it and went back to sorting out files for incoming patients and logging phone messages into the computer program. Focusing on the task, I really wasn't listening to the girl in the lobby until I heard a raised voice.

"I know, Miguel, I'm really sorry! I'm trying to get out of here, honestly, but there's nothing I can do right now."

There was a pause, and she started in again. "No, you don't know what it's like, and you don't know my father, so just let it alone. I'm planning on leaving on my own soon, anyway. Yeah, I'm sure he doesn't care. Just give me some time, okay? I'll be back at my mom's house in a couple of weeks. Okay, I understand. Yeah, bye."

Listening in was not my idea of a good time, but it was somewhat difficult to avoid overhearing that exchange. The girl was speaking at such a raised volume, and the lobby was empty. Even the animals were oddly mellow this morning. I went back to filing, but I was distracted, and there was a sharp pain beginning behind my eye sockets.

_Damn, I hope that's not a migraine. That's the last thing I need right now._

The man and his dog exited the waiting room after thanking Doctor Carmen.

"Are you ready to go, Jessica?" He stood, waiting patiently while his daughter ignored him, busily fiddling with her phone. She finally got up, not bothering to answer him at all, and huffed toward the glass door. She exited the building and walked for the car without even glancing back. His shoulders sunk in what I assumed was disappointment or despair. He leaned down to scratch behind his dog's ears, gave me a sad smile and took out his wallet.

"Did you want to make a payment today, or would you rather the office bill you?" I offered.

He looked up, wallet in hand. "You know what? Send me the bill; I'm in a bit of a hurry." I nodded, and he strode toward the glass door, urging his dog to stop sniffing everything in the path ahead. I moved from around the counter to hold the door open for him.

"Thanks! You're a lifesaver," he called out before hurrying toward his car.

Moments later, Evan came in for the mid-morning shift, freeing me to go spend some time with the boarded animals in the cage room. I'd done the tasks in this room so many times that my arms, legs, and mind worked in a rote manner, without intense thought or decision. While scooping food into the dishes, my mind wandered down a distant though never forgotten path.

"_I don't understand why you're being so stubborn about this, Bella. It's not as though I'm demanding that you reject the scholarship. Just wait a while. Take advantage of the local community college. You already have a part time job lined up with the Newton's, and I can pay the fees for you. After two years, you can still accept the scholarship to UCLA." _

_Charlie was making his argument, again. I'd already given him all of my reasons for wanting to begin university right away. I didn't want to spend time at the local community college with all of the kids from Forks with no other options._

"_Dad, I know you understand how hard I've worked to get something like this. I know you've always said I can do anything I set my mind to. What I don't understand is why you would encourage me to waste the money set aside for the first two years! Getting into a UC school as a non-resident is a big deal. Thousands of applicants are turned away every year there, and I actually earned a placement! Housing is covered. I even get the no-doubt disgusting meal plan. You would deny me the joy of the cereal bar and stale bagels? C'mon, Dad, I've been dreaming of this for years!"_

_He had a wry smile on his face at my mention of cafeteria food, but there was sadness behind his smile that I did not see. Only hindsight allowed me to recall that broken look on his face. He had wanted to tell me even then, but something had stopped him._

"_I just need you to sign off on the paperwork since I'm still seventeen. It's just one little signature. I'll be eighteen by orientation anyhow! This doesn't make sense to me at all. Why are you holding on so tight? I've left to go back to mom before. What's different this time?"_

_He looked stressed, and older. Running a hand down his face he told me, "This is one of those times when you just need to do what your old man is asking you, Bella." We'd been standing in the space between the kitchen and the living room. He walked over to one of the kitchen chairs and dropped into it wearily._

"_Do you not trust me?" I yelled, getting frustrated, walking toward him. "If you gave me a reason, then I could comprehend this better. But, shocker of all shockers, Charlie – you won't communicate. We're not all mind readers, you know!"_

"_That was a low blow, Bella."_

_He got up slowly and shuffled out of the room, and I immediately felt like a heel – a guilty, spoiled, self-centered heel._

_Why on earth didn't he just tell me about the congestive heart failure? I mean every man has his pride, and Charlie was no exception to that concept. He had to have some kind of clue about the shit-storm of guilt I would feel for not taking care of him at the end._

_He didn't want to be a burden._

_Burden? How could he possibly think that way? He disrupted his whole existence to take me in. I would have delayed UCLA if he'd just given me a reason. If only he had just told me the truth!_

_If you had been a better daughter, he shouldn't have had to; loyalty would have dictated your actions._

"I think you've got enough food in that dish, Bella." I looked up from the cage I'd been tending. Evan was standing there, arms folded, a concerned look on his face. "Are you okay? You were about a hundred miles away. I called your name twice."

I hastily blinked away tears, realizing the metal dish for pet food was overflowing twice over. I must have been dishing it out without looking.

"Really?" I said, cringing. My head was pounding. I had no conscious memory of rubbing my temple, but my fingers were already applying pressure to either side of my forehead.

"You don't look so well, Bella. Why don't you let me finish up in here and go home? The rest of the appointments today are groomings, and this is nearly done. I can double task for a little while. Get out of here. You really don't look like yourself."

_It's not a foolish idea. You're about a millimeter away from sensitivity to light, which leads to passing out or throwing up. Get the hell out of here now, or call Edward._

I felt the world tilt and spin. I gripped onto the rungs of the cages. Two of my nails broke when I had the sense to sputter out, "Call Edward." I passed out as the linoleum seemed to rush toward me.

EPOV

I was discussing the parameters of the custom residential assignment when my phone started buzzing in my pocket.

"Did you want multiple drafts of the plans, or just the prospectus and final draft? I was looking through the syllabus and I didn't see that there."

Professor Riley was placing folders into an attaché case as he responded, "Final draft only, and you don't need a prospectus, Edward. I know what you turn in will be well-thought out and within budget."

"Thank you. Will you excuse me?" I pulled the buzzing cell out of my pocket as I walked down the hall toward the double glass doors.

FROM EVAN SOMMERS:

URGENT. PLEASE COME TO VET'S OFFICE. BELLA'S ILL

_Ill? What exactly does that mean?_

_It means what it means. Get your ass in gear - something is wrong._

I had to jog out to my car; it was several lots away. By the time I made it to my vehicle, I was sweaty and worried.

_Ill - maybe she's throwing up and is too sick to drive herself. There are always those stomach flu cases floating around._

_Speculating really doesn't help, Edward. Just focus and get down there. There's no way to know if you're guessing right. Guessing is pointless._

Despite my desire to clear my brain, I couldn't help think of worst-case scenarios.

_Oh God, what if she fell and seriously injured herself?_

_Fuck! This is going to make me insane._

I took deep breaths and drove with purpose, but not without concern for safety. Weaving in and out of traffic, I made it the several blocks to her job. Tires squealing to a halt, I managed to park without ignoring the painted boundaries on the asphalt. It was only a few strides to the entry.

"Where is she?" I said, panting. There was a young man at the front desk.

"She's in one of the exam rooms. Doctor Makenna is in with her now. She hit her head, but I don't think it's too bad. I mean, she wasn't bleeding or anything."

A tall blond woman was sitting next to Bella in a rolling cushioned chair. "Hello, I'm Doctor Makenna, but you can call me Maggie. Our Bella here took a nasty fall. Are you family?"

I was already standing on the other side of the table holding Bella's hand. She didn't move.

_S__he's going to marry me; so yeah, I'm family._

"Bella? Can you hear me?" I prompted, leaning forward. She didn't respond, but she tilted her head to my side of the table and grimaced.

"You don't have to talk, just squeeze my hand if you can hear me." I realized belatedly that my voice was cracking.

She squeezed my palm weekly and groaned out, "It hurts."

"You're going to be okay, love. Don't try to talk." I looked up at the veterinarian, remembering her question.

"I'm the boyfriend. Her family is in Washington State. She has one other good friend here over at UCLA. That would take some time, to track her down. I'd really rather not wait for Alice, given she's no more a blood relation than I am. Bella and I live together; I'll take excellent care of her, Maggie."

"It's okay. Slow down. She's going to be all right." Maggie's voice was calm and soothing.

I must have been speaking too quickly because she looked worried.

"I'm sorry," I said exhaling. "I just rushed over here from school. The text Evan sent me was...cryptic. I was envisioning all kinds of horrible scenarios."

"I can only imagine how worried you are," she responded. "I don't think she has a concussion, but then, I'm more accustomed to furry patients. You can definitely take her for a CT scan. The hospital is not far from here." She looked down at Bella, who was silent but grimacing.

At this point, Bella spoke up. "Please, no hospital." She opened her eyes and looked around the room, her gaze landing on me and halting. She closed her eyes only to open them again. "Lights -Please turn..." She had a pained look on her face. In two strides I found the light switch on the wall and pulled the door open.

"Does Bella get migraines frequently?" Maggie inquired.

"Not to my knowledge, but that doesn't mean she hasn't had them in the past."

"Well, Evan said she looked like she fainted. This appears to be sensitivity to light. I wonder if she has a scrip for migraine headaches at home."

"Either way, I'd like to take her for that CT, just to make sure..."

"I'll have Evan get her bag from the break room."

"Bella?" I said, leaning close. I pressed a feather-light kiss to her forehead. "I'm going to carry you out to the car."

"Kay." Her eyes were still closed, squeezed shut, actually. "Can we please go home to get my Imitrex? Please don't make me sit in the ER for hours, feeling dizzy and nauseous."

"Sweetheart, those are also concussion symptoms. I can take you to a private hospital where we can get you seen by someone in minutes instead of hours."

We were flying down the freeway; Bella was leaning back against the head rest.

"I didn't intentionally keep this migraine thing from you," she stated slowly, her eyes still squeezed shut. "It really wasn't on my radar. I've not had one since..." her voice trailed off and she pressed her hands around her head. I reached over into the console and picked up my sunglasses.

"Would shades help at all?" I asked quietly. She extended her hand to take them; she put them on, and then pressed two of her fingers into her temples, rubbing in circles.

"I've not had one in eighteen months at least. I didn't remember to mention it because it's been a non-issue for so long."

_So migraine headaches have returned after more than a year? This can't be good. I wonder what brought them back._

"We're on the freeway? I thought we were going to go to the apartment." We'd been on the freeway for quite some time.

_She is seriously out-of-it right now. I've never seen her this disoriented._

"Bella, I'm taking you to the hospital, remember? They have all the medicine you'll need. Your prescription is no doubt expired by now, anyhow."

Instead of responding she sighed.

"Just rest and don't try to talk. We'll be there in a minute, okay?" She closed her eyes, and I focused on driving defensively, though weaving through traffic as much as possible in order to shave time off the drive. Before long, we pulled up not in front of UCLA Medical Center, but a private hospital in the city of Pasadena.

I figured the extra drive time was worth it if I could get her faster service in a smaller facility.

The private hospital would also be much more receptive to the persuasive gift of my wallet. Screw the cost – I needed her looked at right away.

The Huntington Hospital had valet service and marble floors – a fact I observed distractedly. It was a haunt of celebrities having 'confidential procedures'. In my haste, we pulled into the portico, and I yelled for a wheelchair. The attendant helped us to the front desk where I ignored all of the standard questions asked.

"No we're not visiting anyone; I don't have premium membership. Can you just tell me where the charitable donations office is?"

"That's on the first floor down the hall to the left. It's the only blue door down that corridor." I was already gone.

After ten minutes with Ms. Elliot, the hospital now had a new endowment for neurology, and Bella had a private room; a doctor was being paged over the intercom.

Bella had been quiet the whole time. The nurse had just settled her into the bed when Bella opened her eyes and got a panicked look on her face.

"I…I need the trashcan!"

She had both hands clamped over her mouth. The nurse had a basin in her hands just in time for Bella to be violently ill.

_Am I supposed to feel this helpless?_

I was pacing the floor in front of the bathroom, pulling on the ends of my hair when the nurse handed me a pink plastic cup and suggested I go get ice from the nurses' station.

When I came back with the ice, the nurses –there were three of them at this point- had Bella cleaned up, in a hospital gown, an IV line in her arm, and were wheeling her out of the room for the CT scan. She went into the exam room for the scan, and I sat in the waiting room, wondering how to help her get better. It felt like ten centuries. However, we only spent a half hour in radiology before heading back to the private room.

Forty minutes later, Bella was doing much better. Apparently, intravenous drugs are a wonderful thing. They gave her something for the nausea and the pain. While she didn't look like her normal pain-free self, she looked significantly better.

"When do you think we can go home?" she asked quietly. "This is a very nice hospital bed - hotel quality sheets and everything, but I just want my pajamas and our bed."

_Of course you want our bed – there's no better place to be. _

_Is she pouting? That's fucking funny. Hell, I don't think I've ever seen her pout before. She's definitely feeling better._

"I think we're just waiting for the doctor to give his evaluation and instructions before we can leave."

I hadn't even finished my thought when we heard two soft raps on the door frame, and a tall, slim doctor entered the room. He had dark skin, possibly of Hispanic origin, and a friendly smile.

When the doctor pulled over a chair, presumably to speak with Bella, I offered to head out into the hall to allow for privacy.

"I don't mind. Do we need to speak confidentially, Doctor Hernandez?" she inquired.

"This shouldn't be too embarrassing. It's actually better if you stay, Edward." Doctor Hernandez was still smiling, like an idiot really, and it was beginning to creep me out.

_Shouldn't be too embarrassing for me? About Bella? What the fuck?_

The doctor unclipped a pen from his coat and flipped through a questionnaire I'd never seen. He read for a minute and then looked up, this time no longer smiling.

"Let me start out by saying that you have no concussion. The CT scan showed no damage, but I'm very glad you came in to get checked out. You did the right thing." He looked down at the floor for a moment before fiddling with the collar on his shirt as though it was too tight.

"Bella has listed you as her significant other, Edward. She might need your help with the prescription I've recommended." His tone was matter-of-fact.

_Whew! He just wants me to help out. I can make sure she takes her medication and gets adequate rest._

"So, am I changing treatment?" Bella asked quietly.

"Your medication will remain the same, but I'm going to recommend some alternative methods for the prevention of headaches. Not every doctor would necessarily make the suggestions I've put in writing for you two. However, the successes I've had bear witness, and the research going back to 2006 supports the idea."

He paused a moment. Bella looked over at me, her brow wrinkled, and then turned back toward the doctor.

"So what is different then?" Bella inquired slowly.

"Sex," Doctor Hernandez offered bluntly. I stared at him, slack-jawed, in complete shock.

_Close your fly trap, Edward. You look like an idiotic mouth-breather._

"Um…uh? I don't think I understand fully. Could you elaborate please?" Bella responded slowly.

"There are really four treatments listed in the release orders for you, Bella. I have them listed in order of importance. The first two are hydration and sex – specifically coitus. While orgasm from means other than traditional sex does release endorphins, you need the other benefits of intercourse, too."

_Holy Fuck! I did not see this coming!_

"So, help me understand this here. Your first recommendation from a medical standpoint is intercourse?" I was trying really hard not to sound baffled or pissed off, even as I felt both.

"Yes."

_Again with the blunt answers! Who the hell is this guy?_

"Why? What does sex do that her medication doesn't?" I ran my hand down my face, feeling as though I'd just been transported to an episode of '_The Twilight Zone'._

Doctor Hernandez leaned back in his chair and steepled his hands before launching in to what felt like a long answer.

"From the research, more than half of the women who engaged in intercourse with a monogamous partner in the study had either a lessening of migraine symptoms within a few hours or completely wiped out all the symptoms the same day. This result was achieved without any additional medication or any other treatment. I've never had a patient come back and say this doesn't work. Like I said, it sounds unorthodox, but science supports it."

"Okay," I muttered slowly. "Is there a specific reason why it needs to be intercourse rather than just orgasm? Does a condom matter?"

"If you two are in a committed relationship and are taking care of birth control using other means, then I recommend that you not use a condom. The androgens in your sperm, Edward, will trigger an increase in her production of progesterone, as well as endorphins. This increase in progesterone along with endorphins has an impact on her serotonin levels which could account for the pain reduction."

Bella looked over at me with raised eyebrows in a sort of 'Who Knew?' kind of facial expression. I shrugged my shoulders and tilted my head to the side in a non-verbal 'I know!' response. Dr. Hernandez took in this little pantomime with a small grin before regaining his serious demeanor and continuing.

"Uterine contractions also play a role here. Now, this is where it _sounds_ sketchy. We as doctors haven't figured out why or how sex does this. There are several theories as to why; unfortunately the hospital doesn't have print literature on the subject as the information is relatively new. I can recommend a few websites or speak to this issue further if you'd like."

My head was spinning. This was simply too weird for words.

Bella cleared her throat, looked down at her hands and then looked up before speaking. "I don't mind knowing those theories as to why it works. It's puzzling; I never contemplated sex in these terms."

"There's a theory about the uterine contractions of an orgasm releasing a pain reduction hormone originally designed to assist in the rigors of childbirth. Some surmise it is related to blood pressure and the physical benefits of sex as an activity. I already mentioned the hormone connection – although that detail is usually mentioned to pregnant women in the third trimester in order to encourage the onset of labor. Suffice it to say that daily sex for Bella is a good preventative measure. The other recommendations in the orders are as such…" He began ticking things off on his fingers to enumerate his points. "Number one is coitus and hydration. Have a lot of sex if possible over the next week, and drink plenty of water. Two is massage therapy. If you can reduce the tension in your neck and shoulders, you will be less likely to have migraines. Three is exercise. Regular strenuous cardio can help overall health and ward off headaches. Four is medication, which isn't changing. The dosage on that sounds adequate already."

"What did you say your specialty was?"

_If he says podiatry, I'm going to have to deck him._

"Neurology. And can I just say how very pleased I was to hear—"

_Cut this off now, he's about to start gushing about the endowment, and Bella does not need to know. She'd freak out completely._

"Thank you so much for your practical attention to detail!" I said loudly, quickly standing up. "We really appreciate your seeing us so quickly. Is there anything else that we need to do before we can head home?"

I shook his hand, willing him not to mention money in front of Bella. A look of perception crossed his face for a moment, and then he reminded us to stop by the pharmacy on our way out.

Walking slowly in a daze, the sterile corridors accompanied us in silence. I had no idea what to say exactly. Without speaking, she took my hand in hers and glanced at me as I looked over at her. She had the smallest of grins on her face and a twinkle in her eyes.

We made it down the elevator, through the swanky pharmacy with buttery-soft leather waiting chairs and mood music, and all the way down to the parking structure before Bella turned to me. She was swinging our hands back and forth when she said, "So how do you want to manage this sex-a-thon, cowboy? I'm really looking forward to taking my medicine."

Her eyes held promises of passion and laughter.

Pressing her gently against one of the columns flanking the path, I kissed her soft, delicious lips and then held her in my arms, my face resting against her neck, hiding in a way, because I didn't know what to tell her yet.

At this point, I was completely and utterly fucked – not just proverbially. I had thought my sex embargo was a good idea, especially after the cluster-fuck of our first time, for which I was somewhat unconscious, and the resulting pain for Bella after trying to fit my apparently abnormally large dick into her deliciously tight-

_Fuck! Must not think that way! Must not think of burying myself within her hot-_

_Ah! Jeans too tight now. Shit, shit, shit! _

_Oh, God – she's shifting her hips against mine. _

Bella's hand landed on my thigh, way too close to the rabble-rouser; I could feel the heat radiating from her fingers through the cotton of my jeans. She was practically purring.

"So – any suggestions on how we'll accomplish those doctor's orders, Edward?" she asked as her fingers squeezed and released.

I cleared my throat, as I took a step back. "Uh, no...Not quite yet. Uhm, I think we need to ...talk...about that some more before we...move to the practical application."

_And apparently I can't speak coherently with an erection._

Bella pulled her hand back with a sigh. "Yeah, I know. You're right. We can talk about it before we do anything, and we're in this together, right? I mean, it's back to dual treatment for both of us – you for your disorder, and me for my_ prescription_. Can you believe that guy? I mean talk about blunt delivery!"

She linked her hand with mine and urged our steps onward to the car.

_Thank God it wasn't Emmett for that discussion._

"Can you imagine my brother giving that same talk?" I glanced over at her, relieved that she wasn't dwelling on my awkwardness.

She blushed just thinking about Emmett's usual hijinks. Covering part of her face briefly with a hand, she lamented, "Good Gracious! Yes, I can imagine. It would be equal parts horror mixed with mortification. Would you like to hear my impression?"  
_Teeny, tiny Bella doing an impersonation of my insane gargantuan older brother?_

She began by hunching her shoulders as though her 'muscles' were too big to maintain a normal stature. Then she imitated Emmett's vocal intonation.

"In my professional opinion, I recommend that you screw like rabbits. That's right, Edward. I want you to fuck that headache right out of her."

_Dick is twitching. My girl just said 'fuck'. _

_God, say it again. _

_No, don't. The seams on these jeans can't handle it._

"Actually, if we never speak of this publicly, I could easily live with that. Sex prescription!" She rolled her eyes. "I'm such a freak."

_She is sweet enough to use words that indicate we're both due some mortification. It's obvious that I'm the problem here._

"It is rather ironic." The self-loathing was evident in my voice when I continued. "Your loser boyfriend has to be ordered to have sex with you. Any other healthy male would have—"

She interrupted before I could finish.

"Hey! Don't speak of my man that way. I object to the word 'loser'. You're with me, and you're always telling me I'm some kind of prize, right? So, that makes you a winner. Besides, we've come so incredibly far! We can't quit when we're so close to success."

We had reached the car. I stopped, leaning against the door and pointed something out.

"You do realize that you are the most optimistic person on the planet when it comes to me?"

"It's not optimism; it's experience. Everything I've had with you has been awesome, with the exception of any kind of sex blockade. Those have to stop."

Shame drew my eyes down to the tar blacktop.

_I'm the reason her migraines came back._

"Edward?"

_I'm the reason she was in physical pain._

"Edward?

I heard her voice, but was tied up in my thoughts for a moment. I looked up, not really seeing clearly.

_She had to be taken to the hospital to be checked out for a concussion because I couldn't get my act together. I denied her when she would deny me nothing._

_It was for her health! She tore the last time we did that. A little caution is in order here._

_You knew she was most-likely fine on Tuesday, and you used the rest of the week to 'punish' her for not waking you up. Class act, Edward. How much of this sex embargo was for her well-being, and how much of it was in reaction to your own insecurities? You didn't even take care of her the usual way. What's wrong with you?_

I felt her small fingers on my face, pulling me back from my 'glass is not only empty, but completely broken, and I cut myself on the pieces' musings.

"Whatever unfair thoughts you're heaping on yourself right now are not true."

I absorbed the grim determination in her voice even as I became aware of what I could lose so easily.

_She's a beautifully passionate woman with nothing wrong with her. At least at the beginning we were both somewhat broken. _

_I can't even remember the last time she had a nightmare or a panic attack. _

_Why would she stay with someone so fucked up? How long before she figures this out and walks?_

_She's going to leave you just like every other woman you've ever-_

I felt myself being maneuvered into the car. I vaguely realized we were in the back seat instead of the front and I was in the middle of the bench and she was straddling me, staring directly into my eyes. She had dark circles under her eyes, looked, in fact, quite weary.

"There you are. Where the hell did you go? I called your name four times." Her brow was furrowed.

"I screwed up again, Bella." Suddenly, the buttons on my shirt were really interesting.

Rather than speak she just smoothed her fingers up and down the back of my neck.

"I let my fear of blowing it with you become more important than your needs. I'm too much work; you're going to realize eventually that someone else would be-"

Unexpectedly, she mashed her lips into mine and kissed me, cutting off the rest of what I was about to say. I kissed her back, realigning our lips and removing the awkward from the kiss.

She pulled away first before pressing one smaller kiss and saying, "I'm not going anywhere. I have a great work ethic; I would never quit doing my favorite thing."

She was smiling again, smirking really.

_Sexually confident Bella has to be one of the hottest __things ever._

_You had a hand in that you know. She is who she is right now because of you. _

_Now what did she just say? 'I would never quit doing my favorite thing.'_

"Doing, Ms. Swan? You want to 'do' me?" I couldn't help the 'glass completely full and overflowing' smile from taking over my face.

She feigned huffing with exasperation. "I don't know, Mr. Masen, it's going to be so much _work_." She rolled her eyes at me again and kissed my cheek loudly.

_What if we got away from the intense pace of So-Cal for a while?_

_How long is a while?_

_At least a week. I can turn in my assignment and her job owes her some hours off. She covers shifts for everyone all the time, it seems._

_I could get us a cabin in Big Bear or Yosemite._

_May as well get right on that._

"Do you feel up to calling the vet's office? I'm sure they were worried about you. Here, use mine."

I handed her my phone and she peered at me curiously before dialing. Before long, she was shifting off my lap to sit normally on the seat. I took the opportunity to exit the backseat and settle in the driver's seat. I could tell she was starting to wrap up the conversation, so I got her attention.

"Hey, is that Evan? I need to talk to him for a sec."

She handed me the phone and I got right to the point asking if he could make sure Bella had the next week off from work. The passenger door opened and closed as she settled next to me. I wrapped up the call and placed the phone in the driver's console.

"Let's go home and get a good night's sleep. We can start the sex-a-thon tomorrow alright?"

"Okay," she answered, yawning.

Leaning heavily on the arm rest between us, she dozed on my shoulder during the drive home.

_Fail-a-thon, more like it._

_Maybe you're being too hard on yourself. You did last long enough for her last weekend._

_Yeah, dream sex humping is not the same as lucid sex._

_Lucid sex as prescribed by her neurologist -fully awake where you come inside her with no condom to dull the sensation. Inside her hot, wet-_

_Ah, crap, here I go again._

_All blood flow redirected to the lower regions. _

_It's a miracle I can still think sufficiently to steer this car._

I shifted in the seat, moving my dick yet again so that it wasn't bent double in my jeans.

_Fuck! I'm so screwed. How am I going to deal with my issues?_

_The same way you always have with her. A lot of talking and joint decision-making which usually leads to mind-bending, earth-shattering, shivering orgasms. _

_Aren't you even a little bit excited to watch her fall apart not from your tongue, or your hands, but around your hard length?_

_Fuck yes! _

_Then you _are_ ready. _

_I'm ready? Yes. Get your smoking hot woman home to sleep off the rest of that migraine, and then go book the cabin for your little sex-a-thon._

I drove into the night with a plan, feeling good about sex for the first time ever.

**A/N: Finally with the sexing! How much do you hate me for dragging it out like this? Hopefully we won't disappoint. TwilightMomofTwo and I are glad to be writing again. Expect serious gaps between chapters, though. I have a youngun; she has two and tons of other projects as well. **

**Until Next Time!**


	24. Impatience is Not a Virtue

**A/N: I don't own the characters and am extremely grateful SM popularized or repopularized the genre of young adult supernatural fiction. **

**A rambling, barely coherent author's note is at the end. Here is a tidbit and a new chapter.**

**Oh, and did I forget to mention they have real sexing in this chappie? Ha! Finally!**

_From Chapter 2__3:_

_Aren't you even a little bit excited to watch her fall apart not from your tongue, or your hands, but around your hard length?_

_Fuck yes! _

_Then you _are_ ready. _

_I'm ready? Yes. Get your smoking hot woman home to sleep off the rest of that migraine, and then go book the cabin for your little sex-a-thon._

I drove into the night with a plan, feeling good about sex for the first time ever.

Chapter 24:

EPOV

Impatience is a Not a Virtue

Patience

An Old French word derived from Latin, _patientia –_ meaning 'endurance'

and _pati_- meaning 'to suffer'

the capacity to endure hardship,

difficulty, or inconvenience without complaint.

_Patience_ emphasizes calmness, self-control, and the willingness

to wait with a placid demeanor;

the ability to tolerate delay.

Bella was in bed asleep when I snuck back into the sitting room to plan our week in Big Bear. I was debating whether to book a five star lodge or bed and breakfast when I realized we would be better off on our own in a rented cabin or condo. There wouldn't be any interruptions for maid service or people around, in general. We could stop at the grocery store on the way up the mountain and shop together. The more I thought about this, it was the best possible idea. We seriously needed to get away from the frantic pace of Los Angeles - away to some tranquility.

_Yeah, but what about maid service? Clean towels and sheets are rather important when you're having so much sex that the bed gets destroyed._

_Pack extra sheets and towels. Who has time for laundry when on vacation?_

_That much sex? What about honeymoon syndrome? Emmett mentioned something about that when he and Rose came back from Cabo. Maybe I can text him about that?_

I had to pay more to secure the cabin for the very next evening, but the photos online looked great.

There was also the bargain we'd made the morning I'd fuck-humped her to injury. In exchange for not wigging out, she agreed to let me buy her two gifts a month for the rest of the year. Big Bear was going to be the first gift. The car we drove up the mountain was going to be the second gift.

_Those gifts both totally ignore the checkbook restrictions!_

_Uh, yeah. What is she going to do about it? She let me accost her and didn't wake me up. I get to take liberties with our deal. She took liberties with my semi-conscious trust._

_Do I tell her the car is hers on the drive up, or do I let her think it's a rental and tell her when we get back home after a week of blissed-out sex?_

_Yeah, the car reveal can definitely wait._

_Now, what car to get?_

_Something big enough to hold her books and groceries and stuff like that, but with all the safety features and that docking station for her mp3 player._

I was torn between the Nissan Pathfinder and a Land Rover. In the end the Land Rover won because it had better safety features, a better engine, and buttery Italian leather seats throughout, while the Nissan only had domestic leather _seating surfaces- _which means sixty percent of the leather was fake. Buying a car online was a little surreal, but it came with delivery service for my chosen hour in the morning – 6AM. Bella would be too tired and disoriented to even notice.

I sent an email to Emmett asking for any advice on how to ward off side effects resulting from increased sexual activity.

_That's bound to be an interesting phone call. There's no way he'll just email me back._

Several clicks with the mouse later, I put my wallet away and hit the shower before heading to bed.

BPOV

I was seriously strung out from the migraine, the hospital, the bizarre prescription with Dr. Hernandez, and our emotional discussion in the car. I zombie-walked my way through brushing my teeth and washing my face before falling head-first into bed. The bedside clock read 12:53 when I felt the bed dip with Edward's weight and two long arms enfolding me with warmth.

It was too early to register the time when I heard a rapping noise at the front door.

_Who on earth? What time is it?_

Edward kissed me on the forehead and told me to go back to sleep

"It's probably Fed-Ex, I ordered some stuff," he said next to my ear before giving me a squeeze and then shifting out of bed.

I had dozed off when he came back.

"Do you want to sleep more, or do you want to know a little bit about our sex-a-thon?"

I was suddenly feeling less sleepy.

_Information about this week! Wake up, Bella!_

"I'm awake! Lemme make some coffee and you can tell me all about it." I started to roll over to hop out of bed when he chuckled and eased me back into his arms by sliding me back by my hips.

"I have your coffee right here, and I didn't say I was telling you everything. I believe my words were, 'a little bit'.

"You suck! You were totally going to disclose, Edward. Give me all the deets!"

"Deets? I'm sorry, I don't speak Alice."

"Details! At least tell me where we're going. I have to know how to pack, Edward."

We were sitting up, leaning against the headboard. I gingerly leaned over him to reach my cup of coffee. He helped me by carefully handing it to me so I could take a sip.

"Who said anything about going somewhere?" he inquired with this pseudo-innocent look on his face.

"You mean we're having the sex-a-thon here? But that's so….I thought you would…Edward! Stop messing with me! I totally know you have some kind of get-away planned. Either that or you were looking at porn last night. You were on the computer way too long before you took a shower last night. Admit it! We're going on some kind of mini-vacay."

"First of all, I was not looking at porn. I'm offended by your assumption. Second of all, yes we are." He didn't look offended in the least. His expression held too much repressed excitement to be legitimately bothered.

"But, you've told me nothing that I haven't already figured out. C'mon!" I set the coffee down so I could slither down in bed again and do an epic stretch-yawn. I may have wiggled a little bit in anticipation and let out a high pitched squeal as I stretched.

_So exciting! Somewhere other than here - with Edward all to myself!_

"Pack clothing that can be layered on or off. It may be warm; it may be cool in the evenings. Hell, we might not even leave our room. You could totally get away with just packing a tooth brush." He grinned lasciviously before bussing me quickly on the lips.

"Do I need walking shoes, boots, or flip flops?"

_Footwear has to tell me something._

"Like I said, we might not leave the room for a while. A pair of tennis shoes will suffice."

_Drat! He's good._

Fixing my face into a belligerent pout, I rolled out of bed to go shower. He chuckled at my childish behavior.

The next hour was a flurry of activity because I was so thrilled to be leaving with Edward.

_How can you be this excited when you don't even know where you're going?_

_I don't know, but I'm seriously jazzed – a week off of work, nothing to do but Edward, and no chores other than eating and sexing like minks._

_Minks?_

_Yes, minks – they're one of the only beasts in the animal kingdom that have prolonged sex. Bunnies do it a lot, but they do it quickly…ahem! Edward and I are _not_ going to do it like bunnies. We're going to do it like minks!_

I must have been giggling like an idiot because Edward wandered into our bedroom with a questioning look on his face. He'd already packed earlier.

"Don't get me wrong, I like that you're giggling like a loon, but is there a specific reason? Usually one laughs in response to something. You're holding a hairbrush and a tube of toothpaste. How is that amusing?"

Placing said brush and tube on either hip, I tilted my head and asked, "Wouldn't you like to know, oh he-of-so-little-information?"  
"Touché," he responded succinctly. "How about five more minutes? I want to hit the road pretty soon."

"Pretty soon? Do we have a flight to catch?" I was going for nonchalant, but it must not have worked.  
"Nice try. Pack some chapstick."

"That doesn't help at all!" I couldn't resist stomping my foot in frustration.

He smirked. "I know."

"You suck!" I hollered at him as he walked back down the hallway.

_Totally infuriating! This is why I absolutely hate surprises. They drive me nuts._

"I thought you liked it when I did that?" he yelled back with a smug tone of voice.

"You know what I mean, doofus!" I said, wanting the last word.

We packed all of our stuff into the back of what appeared to be a very shiny SUV rental car.

_At least, I think it's a rental. There aren't any license plates and there's a sticker on the back window. Maybe it's a super new rental car._

We were on the freeway driving east when I realized that we were not heading in the direction of LAX.

_Well, then that means you're not flying somewhere unless he's going to an airport in another county…nah._

_Think about it, Bella. You're going east on the freeway in Cali, and you're not likely to fly there. What's out there east of us?_

_Desert. The 909 area code which is mullet central, and then you leave the state and end up in Vegas or Arizona. The Grand Canyon?_

"Just one more hint? C'mon! I haven't bothered you in…" I checked the time on my phone. "…twenty minutes."

"Twenty whole minutes? How have you survived the agony? I'll give you a big hint. We'll be there in approximately seventy-three minutes. I had no idea you were such a tortured soul for surprises. Did you sneakily open Christmas presents early as a kid and rewrap them?"

_How on earth did he figure that out?_

"My mom's presents, too," I tried to mumble. I turned to look out the window, hoping he wouldn't pounce on that one. He pounced.

"What was that?" he peered over at me, but I was blushing and carefully inspecting the greenery that flew by the window.

"I opened my mom's presents too, okay? I pretty much knew what everyone was getting before we unwrapped anything. I stopped unwrapping my dad's stuff though. Most of his presents were fishing gear – stuff like that. There was no anticipation on my part to see a fishing t-shirt or a new lure, so dad's stuff was left untouched."

"Wow, whatever it is you have, you've got it bad."

"I'd say it's colossal impatience."

"What happened to, 'Good things come to those who wait'?"

"I say it's more like, 'Good things come to those who make it happen faster'."

He rolled his eyes at me and gestured toward the mp3 port on the dashboard.

"Did you bring your music? Why don't you put something on? It'll make the miles go faster."

I knew exactly what to put on – road trip music would always be _The Eagles_ to me. They were a popular band before I was born, but had been one of Charlie's favorites.

_Life in the Fast Lane_ was blaring from the speakers when I rolled down the window on the freeway to get some fresh air. I laughed at the pure joy of being away from the routine of life. He smiled at my antics. All too soon my hair was a tangled mess, and I eased up on the tornado wind by returning my window to half mast. The next song to cycle through the playlist was a sappy number at which I'd always rolled my eyes. Initially the song struck me as sweet until I listened to the lyrics and had myself a good chuckle. I moved to advance the track when Edward asked to listen to it. Wondering what his response to the song would be, I let it play.

I was standing  
All alone against the world outside  
You were searching  
For a place to hide

Lost and lonely  
Now you've given me the will to survive  
When we're hungry...love will keep us alive

Don't you worry  
Sometimes you've just gotta let it ride  
The world is changing  
Right before your eyes  
Now I've found you  
There's no more emptiness inside  
When we're hungry...love will keep us alive

I would die for you  
Climb the highest mountain  
Baby, there's nothing I wouldn't do

I was standing  
All alone against the world outside  
You were searching  
For a place to hide  
Lost and lonely  
Now you've given me the will to survive  
When we're hungry...love will keep us alive  
When we're hungry...love will keep us alive  
When we're hungry...love will keep us alive

He was bemused; the expression on his face was puzzled.

"You have to tell me why you don't like that song. It's charming."

I made a scoffing sound on a puff of air.

"You're kidding, right?" I asked.

"No, really! Why don't you like it?" He sounded intrigued.

"C'mon, Edward…." I raised an eyebrow at him. "'When we're hungry, love will keep us alive'? Last time I checked love had zero influence on hunger. This song is ridiculously sentimental."

"Where is your romantic soul? He would die for her! He would climb even the highest mountain. He even calls her 'baby'. I thought girls were all into that stuff. Where is your standard girl-sigh? Call me a sap, but I like it."

"You're a sap," I returned, laughing, and he gave me a feigned look of injury.

Searching for the right words, I ended up gesturing with my hands as I spoke.

"Okay, get this. Take the song literally even if you're not intended to. You and I are on our third day without food. We've had water, but you're starting to look at our cat like she's a turkey you'd like to roast."

"I'd _never_ look at our cat like that, and we wouldn't have a cat, we'd have a dog," he pointed out in a forbearing manner

"That's a whole 'nother Oprah, Edward. Back to what I was saying. You're seriously starving. There is a world shortage on food because of… a drought, no – make it climate change, even better!"

He flashed me a rather skeptical look.

"Just go with it, okay? Would the fact that you love me have any influence on your stomach, or would you still be just – monumentally hungry?"

"I suppose you have a point, there. But, I like the idea of foregoing something vital as a means to showing my love for you."

"Don't get me wrong. I love you dearly, too. But if we're starving? Angry hunger pains in the belly? All I'm going to want is a fucking carne asada burrito. That doesn't make me love you any less; it's just reality."

"And they say romance is dead," he said, rolling his eyes at me.

The music, or our debates about the music made the miles appear to pass faster, and all too soon we were exiting the freeway to follow a twisting mountain highway into an ascending elevation. We hadn't gone far enough to have left Southern California. There were only two forested areas of which I could conceive. We were either close to the Angeles National Forest, or the San Bernardino Forest.

"Okay, so we're going into the mountains. Have I figured it out, yet?"

He sighed. "You really can't wait until we get there?"

"Nope."

"Okay, alright, already. We're going to a little resort town around Big Bear Lake. It has skiing in the winter and summer diversions around the lake the rest of the year. I rented us a cabin twenty minutes from town with gigantic pine trees all around. It's quiet and remote with nothing but bumble bees to hear us."

"Voyeuristic bumble bees, huh?" I inquired lazily. Now that I knew where we were going, I could relax.

He turned off the twisting mountain road when buildings appeared amidst the trees and boulders. Our destination was The Sugar Shack Grocery and Liquor.

"Stocking up for the week?" I asked, stating the obvious.

"Privacy has its price," he explained sensibly. "We are our own room service. How does baked potatoes and something on the grill sound? I think there's a terrace on the back of the property. We can pick out whatever we want for the week. Are you game?"

"Shopping together? How domestic! Let's go."

He pulled into a parking space, and I unlatched my seatbelt before hopping out of the car. Edward wrapped an arm around my shoulders as we made our way to the shopping carts and then into the store.

We hit all of the major sections, choosing some items for actual cooking, and other items for convenience. With everything loaded into the car, we began the last few miles to our destination.

_I can't believe we're actually here, doing this. I mean, I can believe it, but it felt like it would never happen._

_Is he freaking out?_

I glanced over at his hands on the steering wheel. His knuckles were verging on a tight grip, but he didn't look like he was about to lose it.

_We should talk about a game plan for tonight._

I didn't know how to broach the subject without sounding like I was already assuming he would be freaking out. In the end, I decided not to talk everything to death, and to give him the dignity of bringing it up himself if he felt a freak-out coming on.

After a leisurely lunch of grilled shrimp, baked potatoes and salad, we had everything cleaned up, and it was still early. I turned to face him from across the kitchen, my back resting against the counter.

I couldn't let it go, however. I just had to give him the option of talking about stuff first.

"Edward?" He was putting the dish soap back into the cupboard under the sink. He turned to face me. "I have a quick question."

"Shoot," he said concisely.

"Sexual spontaneity or sexual game plan?"

He appeared to be thinking things through, his gaze landing somewhere above my head.

"I think we could do either. Naturally, I've been thinking about this for quite some time. Let's just go with the moment. Planning things to death can be a bit stodgy don't you think?"

I resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow.

_This is his show for the moment. Don't second guess him or try to influence his decisions. You had your chance with the whole sleep-hump disaster. Stop being such a hovering hen. Let him be normal for once. Isn't that what you always wanted? To actually be normal or to at least be treated as though you _were_ normal?_

"Well, we can't have that, now, can we?" I'd moved closer to him until I was standing in front of the island. He was only three steps away. "I think the goal here is to avoid stodginess and attract your amorous feelings. Any idea what I can do to bring that about?" He stepped forward to meet me, his arms sliding around my waist.

"I really don't think you need to do anything. Your existence turns me on."

He was kissing my neck, and I shifted closer until I felt the evidence of his words against my middle. I burrowed my face against his chest.

_He always smells so good. And yikers, he's always hard on command._

I couldn't resist sliding my hands into the back pockets of his jeans. Oddly enough, my fingers encountered a folded piece of paper. Leaning back from him, I peered up into his face. His lips had parted as though he was about to protest or say something. He stopped and then nodded his head before speaking.

"Go ahead and read it, I was thinking about things we could do this week. With our little tradition of lists, I figured it couldn't hurt to have another one. I guess planning beats spontaneity this time."

I took the lined notebook paper and unfolded it. In his unmistakable handwriting was a list. I grabbed his hand and ambled over to the sofa to sit down. As I read, he sat down next to me.

**slinky pink lingerie**

I smiled when I read the first one.

_He really did like the pink lingerie. I thought maybe he didn't like it. That felt like such a disaster. Maybe we can try again._

**dress up for each other (role playing) **

**personal landscaping **

**grape seed oil massage**

**strip scrabble**

**foot rub by the fire**

**read something/ watch something sexy**

**body painting**

**various positions and locations (requires another list)**

"There's another list somewhere?" I asked, trying valiantly to repress a giggle. I almost made it. A chuckle burst forth.

My silliness must have been contagious because he adopted that same all-knowing, slightly put-out persona.

"Bella," he sighed. "Of course there's another list. I have it filed electronically with our sexual contract. I am the CEO of our sex life, as you very well know."

Pressing my lips together to keep from getting silly again, I read some more.

"Strip Scrabble?" I couldn't help but ask. "Where'd you come up with that one?" I responded, chuckling.

"You're very cute when you're thinking deeply," he replied before adopting a serious look on his face. "I need to edit that one; it should read Fully Naked Scrabble. I don't think I could wait for the naked part."

"Well, where's the reward in that? I thought the stripping would keep the competition going."

He shook his head, saying my name several times as though I was supremely naïve.

"Bella, Bella, Bella - every time I get a word on the board I get to _do_ something to your naked body."

"Ahhhhh – I see now. I have to admit that one sounded hokey, but now it might move to the top of the list."

"So, choose one," he prompted with an eager grin.

I pointed to the list.

"What about those two?"

"Both? In that order? That can be arranged."

"Can I do anything to help set up?"

"Yes. Sit here and figure out how you envision the role playing dress up thing."

"Really? That's my task – just to sit here and fantasize while you do all the work?"

"There's really not that much to do; you chose the easy ones." He gave me a wink, a quick kiss on the forehead, and then left to go get things ready.

_He seems more at ease than when we were driving up._

_I wonder what accounts for the change?_

_Bella, you're supposed to be designing a sexual fantasy about Edward right now._

_Gagg, I've never been very good at this stuff. I usually end up cracking myself up with something totally outlandish and forget about the fantasy part._

_Yeah, well – focus. Focus like you did the first time you had to use the rabbit._

_Shit! That was hard work. I'm not instinctively good at this stuff._

_Stuff, junk…Edward's junk – jeez, who came up with that turn of phrase? It's so not representative of the way I feel about his…junk, shit!_

_Focus, dumbass! Stop whining and figure out what about Edward turns you on the most._

_Okay, okay._

I sat on the sofa thinking for several minutes before I came up with something.

_Oh! I like his Latin sex voice._

_God, yes I love his deep voice whispered right into my ear, or against my neck, or mumbled into my breasts. Mmmmm. Breast whispering. Edward is the Breast Whisperer. He could totally have his own reality show…_

_Oh Fuck, NO! Bad Idea, Bella – bad, bad, bad. No one else gets breast time with Edward but me._

_What else?_

_I like it when he teaches me stuff, uh… sexually. And his orgasm face! I'd think of that throughout the day if it didn't destroy my panties and make me blush ten shades of magenta._

_So what do you get when you add that stuff up?_

I didn't realize I was torturing my cuticle until I registered the pain in my finger.

_Ouch! Angry Latin teacher… mad at me for… not conjugating my verbs correctly?_

_Um, maybe not. Those hot for teacher things always make me cringe._

_Stop abusing your poor nailbed._

I sat on my hands to keep from indulging in my nervous habit.

_He doesn't have to be a teacher, but can he still wear some wire rim glasses? Something very studious with one of those chunky cable knit sweaters and maybe a pipe._

I started cracking up – rolling around on the couch when I discovered what I'd accidentally referenced in my head.

_Holy Sheezus, Bella. You have a major jones for the professor from Gilligan's Island. What a moron you are._

_Damn, but the professor is hot. I just want him to mix some chemicals or make sunscreen from avocados and coconuts._

_Maybe it's the MacGuyver thing – rather like when Edward fixed your coffee table with his multi-tool and some glue. You get wet when a man fixes something for you._

_I think I just killed the women's lib movement again._

_Ah fuck it. Think of something else._

_What about the contractor construction worker thing?_

I thought for a moment, trying to conceive of a situation where Edward and I would be alone, near a bed, and he'd be mostly naked.

_Yes! What if I was a homeowner and came to check on my renovation and caught him…uh, self pleasuring while wearing only a pair of lowered jeans?_

_Hot damn! I'm actually not that bad at this._

_Breast Whisperer, Bella. You seriously suck at this._

_Stuff a sock in it._

_Okay, so we have a studious island- stranded Latin professor and a pervy construction worker._

_There was also the first time he made you wet, too._

_What?_

_Yeah…remember when you two were at the chicken place and he asked you to spank him or something and your nipples got hard and you totally flooded your panties?_

_So, fuck! I would get off on spanking Edward? That is totally weird and hot._

_It doesn't necessarily have to be some kind of tie-him-up BDSM thing. You could just have a predilection for his butt._

_So, he could be my sexual plaything?_

_Only if he was turned on by that, of course._

_What about that would even be arousing?_

_Anything involving his masterfully awesome ass gets you very worked up. Gripping it and squeezing it when he-_

I was shifting on the couch to try to get comfortable when I realized that I _was_ all worked up. I stood up and began to pace, not wanting to sit down, feeling too restless to relax any more. I took off my button down shirt, instead opting to wear just the strappy camisole. Glancing down, I noticed my nipples were protruding through the fabric of my shirt.

_Tell me he's done up there! I've never gotten myself so worked up before._

I walked to the footing of the stairs.

"Almost ready?" I called out.

"Actually, yes! Come on up," he returned with a voice raised to carry over the distance.

I padded up the steps alternating between getting upstairs as fast as possible and slowing to a normal pace. I paused in the doorway. He hadn't done anything cliché, like lighting a bunch of candles, but he had turned on just one bedside lamp, and the soft glow filled the room. The covers on the bed were folded all the way back, creating an expanse of crisp cotton. There were several items on the dresser to be used for our 'activities'.

I hesitated in the door frame, standing on one foot and then the other. With his shirtsleeves rolled up his forearms, he was leaning back against the dresser, seeming to be in his element. I realized I was worrying my lower lip between my teeth.

_I love confident Edward!_

_Oh, geez, he's going to be microscope distance away from my lady parts. What was I thinking!_

_Duh, Bella. He's been licking distance from your lady parts, why exactly are you freaking out?_

_Oh, yeah. _

_Chill, Bella – he knows your business better than you do._

I realized he was speaking, so I made a mental effort to tune out the harpy in my head to listen to what he was saying.

"….and there's a bathrobe on the back of the door over there."

Before turning to go into the bathroom, I walked over to him and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, then smiled and ducked into the en suite bathroom. I didn't linger too long with him or I know I wouldn't even make it into the shower.

Wrapping my hair into a towel, I gave myself a quick rinse off using the coconut body wash on the little shelf. I dried off, removed the towel turban, and slipped into the bathrobe.

_Wow, this bathrobe is super comfy._

I exited the bathroom and tucked my hands into the pockets of the robe, locking my elbows straight down before shuffling over to stand right in front of him.

"Hi."

_You're such a goofball, Bella. 'Hi.'?_

I gestured for him to lean down. His eyebrows twitched in puzzlement, but he indulged me by hunching over. I kissed him on the forehead, holding him gently by the neck. He grinned an enormous smile before returning the gesture. The forehead kiss was what had started everything. Before I knew it, I was wrapped around him in a big hug. I must have launched myself at him.

"I can't believe you chose the shaving one," he commented quietly.

"Why not?" I asked back.

_That one is seriously hot, although I don't know why exactly. Is it some kind of weird grooming thing like primates?_

_Oh geez, Bella – you get turned on when Edward does the human equivalent of picking nits off of you and eating them?_

_No way, judgmental shrew in my head. Edward wielding a razor and shaving cream around my sensitive parts while I watch and get turned on? I'm already fucking wet from the idea of it and it's not from the shower._

"I don't know…is it sexy to you? Just about everything involving you and me naked is awesome to me, but I'm not sure that it would be to you. Help me understand here," he entreated.

"How do I explain?" I sighed slowly. "It's super caring and loving, I guess. Can't you imagine the same thing if I were to give you a haircut or a shave – it's something you could do yourself, right? But, just think how relaxing it could be if I did it for you. You'd have to put yourself completely in my hands, trust me with essentially a razor at your throat. If you're truly able to let go and…just be, then you trust me more than anyone. I feel that way about you, Edward."

He pulled me forward until I was standing on his feet and rubbed my back up and down, seeming to think for a moment about what I'd explained. Releasing me back to stand on my own, he spoke.

"I think I get it," he responded before urging me toward his little set up area. There was a towel spread across the sheet and a basin of steaming water and all the other accoutrement on the nightstand. "Lie down right here. You can untie the robe when you're ready."

I undid the robe and took it off completely, feeling comfortable enough with him not to need even that little bit of covering. I heard him exhale shakily while I was settling onto the bed and scooting into position. There was a towel which had actually been placed on top of a pillow to, no doubt, bring my hips up to the proper viewing level, I placed my wrist under my neck and lay there, relaxing while he fiddled with his 'tools'.

"You can take it all," I clarified unnecessarily. "I don't want a landing strip or anything like that." He chuckled softly before settling next to me on the bed.

He had a whole system planned and he appeared to be mumbling something to himself.

_Has he been thinking about this since we spoke of it that one time?_

_You always underestimate his sexual obsessiveness. He had a list, Bella. _

_Fuck a duck, Bella – he has a series of lists on file!_

With a small pair of silver scissors he began snipping away at the general area. He was slow and patient, working with no sense of urgency. In addition, he was obsessively tidy. All of the clippings ended up in a plastic bag to be thrown away discreetly. Next he used a hot, wet washcloth to warm and soften the area. I closed my eyes and let him focus on the task without an audience.

_You're not going to watch?_

_No, I'm relaxing. Leave me alone._

_He probably has that serious concentrating look on his face._

I couldn't resist peeking with one eye. He was applying shaving gel with an index finger. He smoothed his digit up and over peeks and valleys with the gentlest of touches.

_Fuck. His tongue is peeking out of the corner of his mouth. Why am I such a sucker for that?_

He was beginning to rasp the razor over the top of my mons, and I could hear the steady scraping sound before he swished the razor in the water, cleaning it off.

I felt his thumb on one of my lower lips adjusting the area to get everywhere with the razor. The gentle scrape of the utensil against my skin, and the cool cream of the shave gel conspired to turn me on. He leaned in closer to get a better look and I felt his warm breath hit my cooled skin.

_Shitdamnfuck. That's just like when he goes down on me. Ohmygod._

He shifted on the bed and adjusted the lip on the other side, and the stubble on his jawline scratched against my raised knee.

I moaned. I couldn't help myself.

"Fuck, Bella. This is turning you on, isn't it?" His eyes met mine. We shared a moment of eye contact before my eyes rolled back toward the ceiling and a whimper escaped.

"God, Edward. You have no idea."

He groaned. "Fucking, yes I do, love. I'm right here. I can smell you, see you, but I can't taste you until I finish and get this damn shave gel off."

"I'm trying so hard not to squirm or touch myself. If I could just pinch my nipples…"

I was panting at this point.

"Don't you dare, Bella. Remember what we've been saying about good things and waiting? I think you can handle a minute or two."

_Fucking ridiculous. Let him finish! He has a razor, dammit._

"God, Edward. I don't motherfucking care if I look like a half balding chia pet! Use the washcloth and then do something! I'm dying here."

He bust up laughing at my bizarre reference, his face resting against one of my inner thighs.

"Please don't make me laugh while I'm doing this. I'm rather fond of this part of you and I wouldn't want to damage anything, okay?"

His warm hands clamped down on my pelvic bones, stilling the movements I didn't even know I'd begun. "I'm almost done. One more swipe. No Chia Pets here, just bare, smooth. I'm done."

One more swipe with the washcloth and then he threw the razor and cloth to the side. It landed with a damp flop on the floor. He was already tongue-deep in my heat.

"Unnnhhh!" I moaned out between clenched teeth.

He bent to his task and brought out all of his familiar moves, devastating my senses.

"Won't take much," I said, gasping.

"Shouldn't take much, I'm always good at this with you," he said, coming up for air before returning with his tongue -firm, long, and circling my clit.

"God, Edward. Oh, Fuck! Do that swirly thing! Yes, Yes. There! Oh my motherfucking…"

He used the flat of his tongue this time to rub back and fourth, his taste buds rasping on my supersensitive nerves. He was lapping up my juices when I felt my head thrashing about wildly, and I only dimly registered the moaning sounds I was making.

I didn't rev down this time, though. My initial climax had clenched through with moderate pulses, but the bigger orgasm was waiting in the wings.

Edward was no longer between my legs. He stood from the bed and began disrobing.

His jeans slid to the floor as he was pulling his shirt over his head from back to front. His tousled head appeared and I drank in the sight of his nakedness.

Voice low and gritty he ground out, "Are you feeling multi-orgasmic right now?"  
Still panting, I responded, "Yes, get back over here. Fuck, get _in_ here."

He didn't lower himself on top of me right away, much to my frustration. Instead, he moved into position over me, adjusting my legs, but still did not allow any chest to chest contact.

"Please, get over here," I requested, my hands reaching for purchase on his shoulders.

"Good things come to those who wait, remember?" he gasped out.

I couldn't resist wiggling my body into alignment with his because he wasn't giving me what I wanted, and I was the queen of impatience. Using my limited stomach muscles, I levered up until we were chest to chest. He groaned, looking down at our bodies in heated configuration. His arms were still holding his weight; the muscles were taut. Wriggling down a little, I wrapped myself around him – limbs, legs, my neck pressed into his shoulder. I was settling down a little bit from the first orgasm, but that didn't mean I wasn't craving him intensely.

Laughing slightly, he began, "You know, to do this, I'm going to have to pull back just to line things up. Can you relax for just a minute?"

"Sorry," I explained, chagrined. "I just felt the urgent need for an NBH. Well, that and I want to jump you all the time, it seems."

I loosened my arms and relaxed my legs back until my heels were resting on the sheets.

"Do you want to see?" he inquired wickedly.

"Oh, fuck me! I can watch it happen? You _are_ trying to kill me."

"Oh, I intend to," he determined roughly.

"Kill me?"

"No, fuck you."

"Carry on, then."

"Lift your head for a second. There – can you see?"

"Damn, Edward. You're so… and I'm all….Guh!"

He was inches away from my slick, swollen lips. I watched, mesmerized as he slowly adjusted the foreskin back, revealing his glistening, purplish head.

"I'll probably come the minute I'm inside you, love."

"I love it when you come. I've been waiting for this to happen together. I don't mind if it happens quickly, okay?"

He grunted in response, not looking away from his task.

I watched as he rubbed the head up and down, gathering the moisture from my body and combing it with the moisture already dripping down the head of his generous length. Every pass of his firmness caused a jolt to run through my body until I was trying not to jerk and moan like a person having a seizure.

_Oh My God, he's wet and you're wet, combining and rubbing and fuck, that feels good!_

Finally, he ceased with the rubbing, much to my relief and disappointment. It felt incredible, but he was driving me crazy.

He slipped down another inch this time, instead of glossing back up to my clit. Slowly he pressed forward, and his eyes shot up to mine.

"Are you okay?"

"Don't stop! I'm more than okay. It's snug, but it's a good snug."

We locked gazes for a minute, feeling the moment intensely. The entrance to my body gave a short quick involuntary pulse which sent his forehead straight into my neck.

"God, Bella. I just need a minute here."

I began to babble in response, which probably wasn't the greatest thing.

"You're so thick and hard, and there's the wet- yours and mine together, and I can't help the involuntary clenches…unhhhh!"

I clenched again, and it was as though the ring of flesh at my opening was grabbing at his length.

He panted quietly into the skin just under my ear and his hot breath was having the unintentional effect of hardening my nipples into tighter bullets.

I tried not to think about what we were doing, where he was, how good everything felt. I tried valiantly, and failed. My internal muscles clenched again.

"I swear I'm not doing that on purpose! You just feel so good and this is so intense."

"… wouldn't make this more difficult." He wasn't forming complete sentences any more.

Pressing forward a little more, he was still only giving me half of what he had. That urgent, tight, almost ouchy feeling from before returned, but he was going so slow that my body had time to expand and adjust.

I resisted the urge to squeeze his hindquarters and pull him in quickly.

_This is his show. This is his biggest issue. Back the fuck, down._

I clenched my hands into fists and pressed them back against the pillow on either side of my head.

"Wrap your legs around me, sweetheart."

I tilted the cradle of my hips back to get my legs around him, and he lost it. The shifting angle, the pressure of my legs around the sensitive skin of his torso, something must have set him off.

He grunted and pulsed inside of me, puffs of air raining down into my face as I watched him come apart.

_There's that glorious orgasm face. God I love him._

_Fuck. I hope he doesn't freak out._

_He's allowed to freak…he just came too soon and he struggles with premature ejaculation._

I didn't know whether to freeze and hold still or rub my hands up and down his back. I settled for brushing the hair back from his forehead. It fell forward again, and I kissed the damp skin of his bicep.

"I'm freaking out a little," he admitted a few seconds later.

"What are you thinking?" I asked.  
"Idiot. Loser. No self-control."

Since he'd already come, I could finally grope his luscious ass. I gripped the cheeks poised above me and pressed him in a little deeper. Clenching again, I barely stifled a moan, and gushed moisture. I couldn't help myself.

_Focus, Bella! Reassure him. _

_How?_

_Break down his self-loathing argument item by item. He needs to hear the truth instead of that bullshit heaped on him by his exes._

"Let's address those one by one. You're incredibly intelligent. Therefore, you are not an idiot. You got the girl, the life, the money, the family, even friends – so you're not a loser. And finally, self-control is overrated. I don't have any. Lose control with me. Get hard and do it again. I really like you coming inside of me."

"You _want_ me to prematurely come again?" His tone was a combination of bafflement and frustration.

"Do you want a composition on why I like that so much? I could write a small exposition on it."

"Go ahead and tell me. The main points will no doubt turn me on again." He smirked down at me, the pain in his expression settling slowly into wry, accepting amusement.

_There! Whew. For a minute I worried he wasn't going to pull out of that tailspin._

I considered why his sexual arrival was so fantastically scorching before kissing his chin and answering.

"First, there's your orgasm face – totally fucking hot - clench-inducing visual porn right there," I confessed readily.

He actually looked a little embarrassed and shifted to nibble on the budded nipple on my breast. He was teasing the protuberance in his mouth like a raspberry when I sucked in a deep breath and continued.

"Then there's the sounds you make when you're coming. They're very deep and grunty as though you're enjoying things, but maybe the experience is a little painful. That pleasure-pain in your sex sounds gets me every time."

His head came up off my breast. His eyes pierced mine and he smiled.

"Pleasure-pain sex sounds, huh?" I felt his member twitch inside of me and my mouth tweaked in a happily surprised expression.

_Do something sexy! He's getting turned on again._

_Fuck. What's sexy?_

_How the fuck should I know! Do something with your mouth – he's always staring at it._

Trying to harness some kind of inner vixen, I peaked the tip of my tongue out of my mouth and ran it over my lips. Then I closed my eyes, bit my lip and moaned with feeling. His answering grunt and tightening hands on my hips told me I hadn't ended up looking like a moron.

_Not bad, Bella. Trust those instincts._

I opened my eyes and looked up at him. Tightening my legs around his waist, I tilted my hips and wiggled, going for a tight fit before speaking.

"Lastly, there's the feeling of emotional satisfaction that I had something to do with you feeling that good for those moments. I'm the wet, aroused body gripped around you. It's my heat, moisture and physical tension that sets you off however quick or not quick it happens. So yeah, I rather like that. I love Mister Friendly, remember? He is second only to your wonderful mind and heart. How is he, by the way?" I asked, knowing the answer full well.

_Mister Friendly is feeling aggressive. Change that to Mister Fuck Me Twice._

I must have giggled. His face formed a mouth twitch, and then hesitated before he broke into a full grin.

"What on earth are you giggling about now, Miss Swan?" He pulled his hips back tentatively, sliding back incrementally.

My eyes slid closed. I was visualizing what was going on between us.

_Ohmygod. Ohmygod. Ohmygod._

_Not laughing any more are you?_

_Hell, no!_

With a swivel in his hips he slid home with some force. My eyes flew open.

"Holy son of a…!" I couldn't finish my expletive because I was drowning in the pleasure- pain of the river of ecstasy his hard dick was making inside of my swollen, super-sensitive walls.

I think my mouth was open and my eyes were closed when he began kissing the corner of my open mouth. His shifting lips drowned out one of my whining moans as his tongue began to dominate my mouth.

"Is it good?" he asked, coming up for air. I couldn't answer, so he slowed his thrusts to a shallow depth, just rubbing against the tight ring of my entrance with that ridge on the edge of his dick.

"You….you…have to ask?" I gasped out.

He slowed to a stop.

_What. The. Fuck?_

"Hey!" I protested earnestly. "You're stopping. Don't stop!"

Taking a beat to realign our bodies, he moved and shifted our connection. Until, looking up – I saw his chest right over my face. My shorter stature and his longer one meant his torso was much lengthier than mine.

"No, ma'am, definitely not stopping," he responded.

_Why is he so far up that way?_

And then he began to move again, the entry and re-entry of his swollen firmness abrading against my upper walls, that luscious hardness pressing and sliding against every sensitive nerve ending I had. He was settling into a steady rhythm – the rhythm he'd been unable to establish before. Then he sped up his thrusts – in and then back out.

Suddenly it was upon me again, and I could feel that this one was engaging every spasmodic muscle possible.

_He's doing laps on my….from the top, there's the clit pass….past the, fuck…re-ohh-entry._

Things were seizing, tightening, changing once again until the successive clenches arrived in repeat pulses.

"Oh God, Edward, it's so good! It's so good. All achy and sweet and…"

Gasping, trying to explain how I felt, I dimly registered a single tear sliding across my cheek to rest in the basin of my ear.

"You're coming?" he told himself. "You're coming!" He let loose all restraint and began withdrawing completely and slamming back in.

My body was too blissed out to evaluate his vigor or even register his movements anymore. Two orgasms in quick succession, and I was shot. I tightened my legs around his hips and gripped him with everything I had, wanting to be there for him in his moment.

I didn't count how many thrusts it was before he joined me in exhausted repletion, but it was several minutes of enjoying his sex face, and the movements of his fantastic body as he ran his own race, now inside me, to the finish line.

Gasping, panting and even with a muffled cough at the end, his damp forehead fell to the sheet beside me as he jerked his final pulses of warm release into my receptive body.

_You did it. He did it. WE DID IT!_

"Yes, we did," he agreed, mumbling his words into the sheet.

"Did I say that out loud?"

"Yelled it actually. Is your head not glued on straight? I must have fucked your brain out of whack."

I grabbed a pillow and squashed it onto the back of his head, where it fell to the floor beside him. "I'll give you a whack, you lovably arrogant love-maker."

I smacked him on the ass for good measure, too.

"Okay, that's it. You have to be ticklish!"

"No, no no no no! Surprises are bad and tickling is…dammit, Edward. I swear I'm not…"

I must have laughed what little stamina I had left out of my energy supply. After the sexing and the tickle session, my body was one limp noodle.

He was settled back onto a pillow, relaxing after his exertions, too. He had taken a moment to grab and hand me one of the extra towels lying bedside, knowing I would need one. I made a quick trip to the bathroom, and then crashed back into bed.

"Edward?" I said, bouncing a little. "If you were a limp noodle, what kind would you be?"

"Kind?" he clarified, turning to look at me briefly before closing his eyes again.

"Yeah – a buck-wheat soba noodle, pad Thai noodle, puh-sketti noodle, ribbony egg noodle?"

"Well, for the sake of your noodle-game, I'll be the first one. But really, men don't admit to any kind of noodle status. We're more like a fallen tree when we're tired."

"Ahhh, I like your analogy much better, and I promise not to ask you what kind of tree."

"Thank you." I couldn't see his face because my eyes were closed, but I intuitively knew he was smiling.

"Do you still want that grape oil massage?" he inquired.

"Um, maybe later? I'm exhausted. All I want is a bath or a nap. Either one will do."

"Thank God. I'm seriously whipped. Let's nap for a few minutes, and then we can revisit the bath proposition."

I wiggled out of the wet spot and adjusted the covers and pillows.

"Bella?" he whispered.

"Yeah?" I whispered back.

"An Oak tree. Definitely a Red Oak."

_He's so sweet he makes my teeth hurt._

That was my last thought before I feel asleep.

**A/N: **

**Greetings fellow Duck Fuckers and Insatiable Sexward Hoors! I know we voted on names, as though that's really important, but I like both names too much to give one up. Besides, some of you are fuckers and some of you are hoors apparently: -)**

**But, I digress, already. I'm glad to be posting this chapter after my baby girl is working to make the sixth month mark this October 9****th****, and I've gotten through the first month back at work without a melt-down or a hair-tearing fit (me, not the baby). I'm the angsty, tortured one because finding time to write is a serious trial.**

**Baby Duck is happy as a clam. (Should I be comparing ducks and clams? Never mind. There's a creepy sex joke in there somewhere, but I'll refrain on behalf of Baby Duck). **

**I recently figured out how to tweet on my droid. So, you can follow if you like. I can usually recognize the ****Twi-fandom nicknames by sight and of course from reading so many of your awesome, supportive reviews. I have to apologize for not answering so many of them. I used to answer each one, but babies mess with your free time in a complex way.**

**When I get a particularly insightful or frustrated story question, I post the question and my answer on the Twilighted thread. I've not been there in a while, but new chapters tend to stimulate conversation, so take a gander there if you don't have a better inane activity.**

**All dictionary references are derived from The Free Online Dictionary by Farlex.**

**I don't think I mention that regularly. I'm a complete Etymology Hooker – seriously.**

**If you're not from North America, you might not get the McGuyver reference. It was a television show from my youth. The main character of the same name was always getting into dangerous and difficult situations. Miraculously, he always seemed to be able to stop a bomb or repair an airplane with a stick of gum, a pair of shoelaces, and a potato. It was a lot ridiculous, but I've always had a girlie hard-on for a guy who can fix things – preferably fixing things a little bit sweaty, with his shirt off. But, that's just my personal pet perve;-)**


	25. Proddings and Prevarications

**A/N: I can't say thank you enough for those of you who have stuck with this story despite the epic lapses in updating. To write effectively, enjoyably, I have to have an entire day off with no interruptions. For a new mother who works full time, this means a random day off from work and a sitter, while I bunker in some internet café away from my home and baby. It's not easy to do, and that's why this update took months. I hope this is worth the wait. Two months from now I have nine weeks off from work. I'm usually able to get a chapter or two out during that time. My goal is to wrap up the story and give everyone their HEA. We'll see if I can meet my own goal. Happy reading! Drop me a line if you're able.**

Chapter 25: Proddings and Prevarications

EPOV

I rolled over to get comfortable and dimly registered the remnants of an unpleasant dream.

_Or is it a memory?_

_It's an unpleasant memory and you're dreaming about it – feeling regret for an argument you couldn't control then and still can't fix now._

_Oh. Okay._

Switching positions again, I sighed and slipped back into a soporous state.

"_God, Edward! Again? We just had sex ten minutes ago. What is it with you and _that thing?"

"_Thing, Jessica? You make me sound like the swamp creature or something."_

"_I'm not trying to be rude, Edward. I just don't understand why we can't just lie here and talk without you poking me in the back."_

_We were lying in the dark in my bedroom. The lamps were turned off, but the street light sent a faint glow of yellow light into the room. I shifted my body so that we were no longer cuddling, and I was no longer pressing up against her._

"_And, I'm not trying to _**poke**_ you, Jessica. It's a natural human function. It doesn't mean we have to have sex again. I just have an intense hormonal drive and find you attractive. You can't see it as a compliment, at all?"_

"_Frankly, Edward – no. I feel, like, totally objectified – insulted - like you only view me as a sex object. I can't satisfy you. I'm not enough for you. This is so frustrating. I'm just going to go to sleep. Try not to touch me, okay?"_

"_How many times do I have to reassure you? You __**are**__ enough! It should be obvious by now that I don't objectify women sexually. I've never been anything but respectful of you, Jess." I sighed, feeling that trying to reason with her was futile. "Whatever. I'll sleep in the other room. I wouldn't want to accidentally touch you."_

_She and I both knew that I wasn't going to sleep. I went to the closet to grab my running shoes and a shirt from the closet, quietly closing the sliding door. The latch on the bedroom door mechanism clicked softly as I left - feeling both angry and rejected._

_Suddenly the door swung open. Jessica was standing there, hair a mess, in only a rumpled t-shirt. The sight of those long, smooth legs gave me involuntary wood again. Her eyes swung down to my tented running shorts before rolling in the sockets and then landing on my face._

"_You're leaving again? What the fuck, Edward? Why do you even ask me over? I don't get you!"_

Did she actually just smack her forehead in frustration? My God! It's a dick – it gets hard. It's not that big of a deal.

_Rather than voice something vulgar and rude, I stared down at the grains in the hardwood floor. It felt as though my temper was at its boiling point._

"_You don't even try to get me, Jessica. Why would I tell you anything more about my situation? You're tired of hearing about it. I'm not a masochist, you know. If you don't want me, then I'll remove my offending presence, Princess." I was sneering at her. My attempts to be polite or a gentleman about the whole situation had fled now that she was deliberately picking a fight._

_She gasped in outrage. Her hand swung up to slap me, but my reflexes were faster than hers. Her wrist was clutched in my left hand when I enunciated my advice slowly. "I think you need to go home and stay there. This isn't working for anyone. We're done. Leave the key on the table. You can clear out in the morning or leave now. I don't really care what you do anymore. Just don't take anything that's not yours."_

_I was already dressed and half way to the front of the apartment when she called out, "But Edward! Let's talk about…"_

_I slammed the door with force, effectively cutting off her whiney recapitulation. Stepping into my well-worn cross trainers, I tightened the laces and jogged down the path of the apartment complex._

"Hey, Mister Red Oak! You're stiff as a board, and not in a good way!" I felt the gentle pressure of smooth, cool fingers running up and down the tense muscles of my neck.

_Bella. Not Jessica. Bella. Salvation. Sweetness. My Bella._

Some of the tension seeped out of my tightly held spinal column. I heaved a giant sigh before opening my eyes and turning my head to assess the situation.

"What was I doing?" I must have looked apprehensive because she slithered down in bed next to me.

"I don't know how I knew that something was off. You were rolling around a lot, and I got a look at your face. A grimace of disgust was covering your normally pleasant expression. So what were you thinking about? Global Warming? Al Gore in a bathing suit?"

A puff of shocked laughter escaped my lips, and the last of my stress exited the cabin.

"I wish. It was a horrible dream of the final argument with one of the ex-girlfriends."

"Which dipshit was it? I can call her a dipshit, right?" She had an irreverent, almost cocky grin on her face which was surrounded by her silky brown hair. I reached up to guide a tendril of it behind her ear. She had settled on my chest with her chin resting on her steepled hands.

"It was dipshit number one – Jessica," I responded.

"Does that make her Queen of the Dipshits? I could get her one of those pageant sashes with the title in glittery ink."

I laughed in response to the visual image. Pretending to consider an important point I commented, "She really didn't enjoy reading much. I doubt she would have noticed the lettering on your sash. The shiny satin would have been too distracting to her vain streak."

"Wow, she sounds like a real winner." A scoffing burst of disgust accompanied her words. "She was really critical of you, inordinately vain, and she let you go. Yep - that makes her a total loser. I'll wager she wouldn't eat cereal in her pjs or watch cartoons, either."

I thought back, trying to mentally catalogue what Jessica and I had done for fun.

_Shopping…for things _she _wanted. Going to concerts for feminist-power girl-bands. Spending time with her friends – friends who were all as vapid and aimless as she was._

"Staying with her for more than a few months was a testament to my extreme patience."

"Why didn't you end things sooner if she had qualities that were unappealing?"

I found myself chuckling again. I laughed quite a bit before her eyebrows raised in inquiry let me know she wanted in on the joke. I answered her non-verbal request.

"You. You're utterly nuts. One minute you label her Queen of the Dipshits; two minutes later she's described as 'Having unappealing qualities'." I tried to affect a stuffy tone of voice.

She shook her head in a quick back and forth movement. "We've already established my nutti-ness. Please tell me why you stayed with her more than a week. I'm really curious."

"Well, she was my first grown-up relationship." I shuddered, reliving so many disappointing moments. "She didn't know it, but my first time having sex was with her."

"I think that explains a few things. How many people had she been with?"

"I never knew for certain. She always dodged the answer to that question. She often went off on a feminist rant about society's view of women. I found myself tuning her out frequently. I wasn't trying to judge her against an impossible ideal; I just wanted to know my girlfriend."

"Please refer to her as dipshit number one. I own the title to girlfriend, thank you very much."

"You'll own many more important titles in due time," I whispered against her forehead.

"I don't…titles of books? Boxing titles? You know I don't box – well, that is. I don't box very well. There's the heavyweight wrestling title. Do you think I could body-slam the dipshit if I ever meet her? I mean, would you mind?"

She had hopped out of bed when the rambling about boxing began. By the time her questions were finished, the last query was delivered from the doorway with toothpaste and toothbrush in hand.

_Is she being deliberately obtuse? I wasn't referring to books or men in spandex. Marriage, Bella. I want to marry you. The title of wife is what I'm thinking._

_She's totally avoiding you. That was bogus. She's almost finished with a degree focused on analyzing ambiguous statements. Your statement wasn't all that unclear. That was deliberate. She just played dumb, or clueless. However you want to label it. She just avoided a conversation about the future._

Reaching for the lounging pants from the floor, I slipped them on and padded over to lean against the door frame.

_Push, or let it go? Force the issue, or give her time?_

_This is delicate, Edward. You don't know exactly why she's playing the evasion game._

She was brushing her teeth quickly now. In between bouts to spit in the sink or resume brushing, she would lean up to present a big toothy grin in the mirror - the reflection revealing her expression.

_That's a fake, panicked grin – if I ever saw one._

_Let it go for now. You've only been in Big Bear for a day. There's time to talk about this. Besides, isn't this supposed to be the sex-a-thon? Go seduce her, and let the commitment talk simmer on the back burner._

She was done brushing her teeth. Pulling her long hair over one shoulder, she began to brush the tangles out of the ends of her hair. I pressed a soft, gentle kiss to her exposed shoulder. My hands slid down from her upper arms to rest of the curve of her waist.

"_Ad interim_, Bella," I pronounced slowly.

Her eyes flashed up to mine while a look of puzzlement crossed her features. She was already pressing her body back against mine. She sighed, sounding content again.

"In time? Is that what that one means? It's Latin, right?"

I continued pressing kisses to her shoulder, working my way toward her neck. The silence sunk into the room. She broke the silence to mutter aloud.

"In time, on time. Time to go!" she twittered in a nervous giggle. I caught her by the hand before she was able to wiggle out of the room.

"Bella, calm down. I was trying to be romantic, woman. That one means, 'For the meantime'. I don't want to pressure you. We can talk about this later if you'd like."

The nervousness shed from her like water from a duck.

"Thank you, Edward. I'm not ready to talk about that yet." She was following the curve of my shoulder with her fingertips.

"I can see that. When your voice gets shrill and you start rambling like a crazy woman, I'm pretty sure that means you're not ready."

"I'm sorry Edward." She pressed her forehead against my chest.

"Don't worry about it, love."

I turned her in my arms to give her a kiss on the forehead. Leaning down, I whispered this phrase right into her ear.

"Sors beatus meus primoris nixus"

She melted right into me. "Mmmmmm, Edward."

I couldn't resist the cocky grin at the speed with which my efforts were received. She burrowed her face into my armpit. I could feel the heat of her skin.

"Bella? Why are you embarrassed?"

"Five words, Edward. It took five words for you to get me all wet and achy again." Her entire answer was delivered into the skin of my shoulder. She'd had the sense to take her face out of its concealed location. "Are you going to tell me what that one means?"

"I'll definitely tell you, Bella."

"When!"

"When you're ready to talk about the future."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh - motivation, love. I'm thinking I'll use your curiosity against you. Start working through whatever is turning you into a panicky mess. Talk to me. Sharing your feelings will get you your translation."

"No fair, Edward."

"Playing dumb isn't fair either, Bella. Didn't we say no more dodging? I've spilled my guts to you so many times it's not even funny."

"Can't we just have a shower and then more sex, instead?"

"Of course we can, Bella. But keeping a secret from me will cause you undue stress – which will simply lead to more therapeutic sex. I'm totally okay with that."

She put her index finger next to her chin.

"It works for me. Let's get to it." I couldn't resist the lascivious grin that had spread across my face or the firmness that was swelling in my groin. Bella wiggled closer and tightened her arms around my waist.

"I have an idea, sugar lips," she broached carefully.

"What's the idea?"

_Go ahead and tell me. I love your ideas._

"Can we…? Well, that's not really therapy. Would there be a stopwatch? Fuck. I can't think straight!" She sunk her forehead against my chest in defeat.

"Slow down. Breathe and begin again." I lifted her chin and looked her in the eye, hoping to impart confidence.

"What if we used the squeeze method to prolong sex for you – the goal being to…" Her voice trailed off and her head dipped back down again. I bent my knees to get back at eye level with her.

"The goal is to…? You stopped talking, Bella! Finish your sex thought. You're killing me here."

"I stopped because it sounds really selfish. I don't mean it to be. It's just the multi-orgasmic thing."

_Stopwatch. Multiple orgasms. She wants the therapy-style sex, but not necessarily for me…? AH! She wants the therapy sex to hold me off so that she can come many times. What if I lose it though? I don't know if squeezing would hold me off when she's gasping and moaning and losing it._

"Prolonged therapy sex with multiple orgasms for you?

"Yes!"

"If more than one is becoming standard for you, how is that selfish? Let's consider it essential. As a matter of fact, go ahead and be selfish. If you ever go too far, I'll invoke the sexual satisfaction contract."

"So we can have wild, kinky stopwatch sex – right now!" She was giddy with excitement, wiggling even.

_I love this woman._

"I think that's the plan, yeah. Did you need to do something first?"

She was chewing on that bottom lip again. I kissed her to free the tortured lip. She kissed me back, smackingly.

"Can you just give me like eight minutes to do something?"

"Go. You have seven minutes and fifty seconds left." Her eyebrows shot up and she fled the bathroom.

"Get out! Get out! I have to do this alone." She was yelling from what sounded like the closet. "Go talk to those damn voyeuristic bumblebees or something."

"Okay, okay, I will. I guess I'll be on the back deck."

"I'll come get you in seven minutes." She stuck her torso out of the closet. She was already naked and was holding her breasts in her hands. She took one hand off her boob to gesture to the door. "Go!"

_You expect me to go when there are raspberry nipples dead ahead? Totally nuts._

I must have taken a step forward with glazed eyes because she was shouting. "No, Edward! Eyes up here. Back. Deck. Now!"

_Shit. Better go._

I smacked my hands over my eyes and back-walked out of the cabin's bedroom. "I'm going now! One seriously aroused and sexually obsessed male with an impressive hard-on is walking away from the bedroom, Bella. You're a madwoman."

"I know, Edward, but you'll love this, I swear!"

"Why can't I watch you and love it first hand?" I muttered from several feet away. I was already at the hallway leading to the stairwell. It was ten steps down the stairs and a few more feet through the kitchen and out the glass door. The back patio had a sprinkling of leaves and pine cones littering the deck.

_You are truly pathetic if fewer than ten minutes away from her turns you into a grumbling mess._

_I'm not pathetic. She's just naked and alone – getting ready for me to be naked and alone with her. Is it a crime if I want to put my dick back in her and move it around a lot?_

_No, it's not a crime._

_I wonder exactly what she's doing._

I was facing the open forest when I heard the distinctive sliding sound of the glass door moving on its track. I swung around, immediately.

_Motherfucking Lord of all that's holy._

She was standing in the open door frame. My eyes traveled from her long hair that was swirling around her nipples to the curves of her breasts that were nicely framing the stopwatch that rested between them. Rounding out the outfit was a pair of long gym socks in green and white stripes that covered her all the way up to her knees.

_Slim thighs. Bare pussy. Rounded hips. Belly button. Breasts again._

I released a puff of air I didn't realize I'd been holding.

_Say something. She's looking down – possibly losing her confidence._

"How many are we going for, Coach?" My voice had grown husky. I was walking toward her slowly. I was only arm's length away now.

Her head shot up, a big grin stealing over her features.

"How many can you give me, Masen?" She was backing up now, heading back for the stairs.

"I would like to push for four, Coach Swan." She smirked at me.

_She fucking smirked at you about how many orgasms you can give her before you cave in. Game. On._

"Isn't that a bit ambitious, Masen? You've only begun your training for the big race. We wouldn't want you to seize up. Muscle strain, you know…"

"It really depends on how much time you give me, Coach. If we have an extended practice, I could exceed four – easily."

"Eh, eh….exceed four? That's a lot of laps, trainee."

Her knees must have gotten weak because she had stopped only halfway up the staircase and she was gripping the railing tightly.

"Do you need some assistance, Coach?" The rough texture of my chest hair was pressing into her as I crowded her in the cramped space. I couldn't resist sliding my clothed thigh up against her bare heat.

"Drop and give me one, Masen – and I don't mean pushups."

"Yes, coach."

I got quickly to work, positioning her on the edge of the stair tread. Her hands were gripping the walls next to us when I dove in. Her swollen pussy lips were already coated with her arousal and the smell of her musk was driving me insane. I drank of her liberally, licking and sucking every available inch of sensitive flesh. I was gently sucking on her clit when a thumping sound distracted me briefly from my task.

Bella was pounding the wall with her fist; a look of agonized pleasure had overtaken her features. I stopped for a moment.

"Everything okay, Coach?" I positioned one of her hands onto the safety rail and pressed her other hand over the edge of the stair tread. When she was positioned safely, I thrust two fingers in and up, pressing against the raised ridges of flesh on her inner wall. I was rewarded with a gasp and a long, low moan. Knowing this was the right spot, I began gently rubbing back and forth with the pads of my fingers.

Her thighs jerked open with another gasping moan and then clenched shut around my forearm.

"Unnnnnnh, unnnnnh, uhhhhh, ohhh kay. OKkkkay here."

_Nearly unintelligible. She's about to come. YES!_

Keeping up the steady rubbing, I angled down to suck on her clit simultaneously.

_No way can she withstand that. She'll be losing it in three, two, one…._

"Edward! Edward! God yes, right there. Fuck!"

_And we have a winner. One down. Three to go._

I gave her one last lick before lifting my head to take in her flushed cheeks and contracting chest muscles as she dragged air into her lungs. I slowly removed my fingers before putting my hands around her waist and lifting. She instinctively wrapped her legs around me. Those sexy ankles clad in gym socks clasped behind my back. A few steps and we were back in the bedroom.

I set her on the bed and had my lounge pants off in seconds. She was still dazed from her first orgasm.

"Mmmmmm, Edward. I feel so good right now."

"Satisfied-good, or achy – I could come again – good?"

"I dunno. Just good I guess." Her eyes were still closed but her hands were running up and down my back. I slid on top of her and positioned her legs back around my waist. Adjusting the skin on my penis, I pressed inside her drenched folds.

"Oh my, Edward! Achy good. Fuck I could come again. Fingers – good. Dick…so big, so good. Mmmmmmf."

"Click that stopwatch, love. I want to beat my last time." Her fingers went to press the counter and my mouth opened and latched onto the nipple not hidden by her hair.

"Is this hard enough?" I asked of the pressure I was giving with my mouth. Her hand went to the other breast to work on that nipple. She moaned in response.

_She's touching herself and you're inside her while she's moaning. How long do you honestly think you're going to last with that visual stimulation? You'll be gasping and making the retarded orgasm face in about two seconds._

_Shut the fuck up. She loves my orgasm face, and I've been told by her that it's not retarded. Either way – it doesn't matter._

_Ask her to squeeze, Edward._

_I can distract myself. Leave off._

_Ask her to squeeze, Edward. It's urgent._

_Uh….. dirty toilets. Ron Jeremy in a tank top. No, no, Ron Jeremy shirtless. Good God – that should work._

"Oh, Edward, you're so hot and hard. Keep going! Don't stop."

The wet fist of her aroused body clasped around me quickly once in a precursor of her impending orgasm.

"Oh, fuck – Bella. Squeeze! I'm about to come. God, no…"

Her eyes popped open immediately and her small hand wiggled to find space between us. I leaned up to give her room. Her journeying fingers found the base of my erection and pressed, hard. I could tell she was counting. My flesh didn't fully soften, but the pressure of impending orgasm was held off for the moment. Rolling, I turned so that she was on top.

Her knees dug into the mattress and she fought to find a balanced footing on top of me.

"Can I move now?"

"Yeah. We're good. Ride me, baby." I was grinning like an idiot again.

_Why're you all Smiley McDickerson?_

_Because I'm doing my woman right now. Shut up._

She laughed at the 'Ride me, baby' comment and began rhythmically shifting her hips first up, almost all the way off, before slamming down and grinding her wet body against mine. She lifted back off to saw up and down rapidly several times before grinding the hell out of me again.

She was gasping, mewling in a timed pattern. I gripped her by the softness of her ass and slammed her back down again. She gasped and levered her hands against my chest to rise all the way off of me again. The suction of her body released me with reluctance. She got her balance on her knees this time before reaching down with her small hand to rub the swollen head of my penis all over her rosy folds.

"You still good, love?"

"Yeah. I'm okay."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm right on the edge, but I can't…"

She pressed the head of my penis back down at an angle and slid on me again. We both groaned.

"It's fucking good, and you're in me and you're all hard, but I can't…"

I gripped her hips and stopped all movement, staring up into her eyes, forcing her to finish her damn sentence.

"You can't what?"

"I can't fuck myself silly like you can Edward. I need you to do that thing where you screw my brains out."

I was sure a baffled look had overtaken my features.

"I have a thing? That I do? I thought I screwed your brains out every time, Bella."

"No, you're much more subtle than that, Edward. Every time it's different. There was one time where you did these shallow thrusts, like four or five of them, and then a hard slam. Can you do that? I really liked that."

She wasn't as wet as she was before. I reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a small tube.

"Close your eyes and give me your right hand, love."

She did as I asked and I smeared some gel onto her fingers before setting her hand back on her clit. I had her rubbing in circles around her still protruding flesh when I began thrusting those shallow thrust like she'd requested.

I was counting in my head to keep focus. The rhythm, her fingers on her clit, and her closed eyes all seemed to help her focus and get back in the game. Before long, she was gasp-moaning again.

_Not bad, Edward. Well done._

_Fuck you very much._

It was right at the moment when I would have to slam into her with force.

_Not too hard._

_No, fucking give it to her, she asked for it._

The length of my penis slammed into her rippling past sensitive tissues in one fast stroke. Her eyes flashed open.

"Oh God! Just like that! Oh, my…"

We were sawing back and forth again with these little shallow thrusts – five or six of them. I slammed up and into her willing body.

"Do you want it a little harder?"

"Fuck, yes. Edward. Fuck me hard!"

I pulled my hips back in preparation and shoved into her again with everything I had. Pulling back to the shallow rhythm again, I realized why she liked this so much.

_The shallow thrusts are rubbing against her g-spot and the harder thrust compresses on her clit._

_But she's not coming right now. I feel like she could let me do this all day._

_She probably could._

_I can't hold off that long._

_My balls are already tightening. Fuck I haven't even come once._

All at once, I stopped, shocked.

"Hey! Don't stop! I didn't say you could…."

The excited look in my eyes must have communicated something to her. Because she cut herself off in mid-protest and asked, "What?"

"Fuck, Bella. I totally forgot about the stopwatch. How long have we been…?"

"Fucking like bunnies, Edward?"

"Yeah. How long?"

She lifted the stopwatch, which had fallen back over her shoulder into her hair. "We've been bunny-fucking for twelve minutes, Edward."

"Wait," I said, sliding back inside her again in a shallow thrust. "Isn't it minxes that have the prolonged sex and bunnies that just do it all the time?"

"You're asking me that now?" She said, grunting on another thrust.

"Yep, I am," I said, sliding home again. I reached down to roll one of her nipples gently again my teeth. "Keep circling your fingers, Bella. You're lagging, here."

"Woops!" She closed her eyes and the joint pressure made her stiffen all over as her nerves responded. I felt her legs jerk around my waist and her back actually arched off the bed.

"Oh my God, Edward. Oh, my! Oh! Oh! Oh!"

Her body was rhythmically clenching around my more than swollen length at this point.

_Don't come. Don't come. Whatever you do – you're not allowed to come yet._

"Edward, it's okay. Edward, you can come if you want to – don't torture yourself, love."

I must have tightened my eyebrows because she was smoothing them out.

"Don't even try to talk me out of this, Bella. I said four, you're getting four."

"Whew! You do not give up. Aren't you painfully aroused at this point? Like, ready to explode?"

"God, Bella – yes! You're not making it easier with all this talk of exploding. Keep talking like that and I'll explode all over your tits."

"Fuck. That's hot. Could you do that?"

"My God. You want me to!"

"Fuck yes. Right now. Do it for me. I'd rather have that than a fourth orgasm – as long as I get to watch you." She was licking her lips as she spoke to me about defiling her breasts with my come.

_Where did this woman come from?_

"You are such a dirty girl, Bella Swan" I said in a gravelly voice.

"Stroke your cock, Edward. I want to watch." Her words were breathy with anticipation.

I repositioned myself between her spread thighs. She slid up the bed into a half sitting, half reclining position. I gripped my cock with my right hand, feeling her eyes on me.

_This is a little bit weird._

_Shut up. She's totally getting off on this._

I opened my eyes. She had one hand on her breast and the other hand was playing between her legs again.

I had held out for so long. The image of her lust-filled gaze while she fingered herself to sexual arousal again was enough to send me over the edge.

"Fuck! Bella… I'm about to…"

Her hands reached down to rub up and over my thighs. My balls tightened up against my body before a spurt of release erupted up and out of me in several quick arcs before my hot come was sliding over the pearly skin of her breasts. After a few shocked minutes, I felt the pulse in my cock slowly recede to a more manageable rhythm.

She had a cocky grin on her gorgeous face as she dipped a finger in the moisture covering her chest. Suddenly, she chuckled.

"What?" I asked, wondering what on earth she was thinking.

"You have excellent aim. Not a drop in my hair or on my face. Your coach is very proud, Edward."

I rolled my eyes at her crazy antics. I collapsed onto the bed next to her, catching my breath. We lay there, just breathing for a few minutes.

"Much as I loved that ridiculously hot porno moment there, I'm a little bit sticky. We should hit the shower, trainee."

"So that was hot? You're not skeeved out by that?" I asked as I handed her a t-shirt from the floor. She wiped off her chest with a matter-of-fact expression.

"Well, it was a little bit caveman, but I liked it." She threw the shirt onto the small pile of clothing in the closet. She waltzed out of the room and into the bathroom. "You joining me?" She asked, turning briefly.

I followed her into the shower enclosure. She was adjusting the water to the right temperature. I stepped in behind her, my dick already disobedient and hard again. She giggled and rubbed her ass back against me as the hot water rained down.

"I think I'm pretty much shot in the whole feline department, but I love the sentiment. I don't think I could ever make you feel like you need to apologize for wanting me."

_Feline Department…Cat – kitty- pussy….Oh!_

"Are you okay? Was it too much?" I rubbed my hands up and down her upper arms

"It was just right. My whole body is literally thrumming with pleasure. I've never felt this happy in my life," she affirmed softly. "I will probably be sore soon, though. We're going to have to figure out some non-sex activities to give the girl parts a rest." Her head tilted down when she said this and I chuckled.

I squeezed out some shower gel and quickly worked the material into lather. My soapy hands worked over her back and around to her flat stomach. Her hands gripped mine and pulled them up to cup her breasts.

"So, Edward. How does it feel to be a fifteen minute man?" She leaned her head back on my shoulder and twisted her head to try to see my face. I circled my fingers over her taut nipples before answering.

"It feels a hell of a lot better than being a forty-five second man."

I couldn't restrain the rueful laughter that bubbled out of me. Now that I wasn't such a hopeless wreck, I could laugh about it- at least with Bella I could laugh about it.

"Edward! Don't be so mean to yourself. You were never that fast with me."

"I've never tried harder with a woman than with you. You make me forget the selfish part of myself. I just want to please you so much that I end up focusing on something other than how good I feel. I get to experience how good you feel. In some ways, that does it for me. I love watching you come, knowing I am responsible for making that happen."

She turned around in the shower, an excited expression stealing over her face.

"There! That right there is how I feel too!"

She may have bounced up and down on her toes. I steadied her knowing a header in the shower would be bad.

"You like denying the selfish part of yourself? What?"

I ducked down so she could shampoo my head and do the scratchy-thing to my scalp that I always loved.

"No, knucklehead. I get as much enjoyment watching you feel good – orgasming, whatever. I feel just as good whether it is after ten minutes or two. See? You have to know what I mean because you said essentially the same thing."

I leaned over to rinse the suds out of my hair. I thought about what she'd said. I pushed the dripping strands back away from my face.

_Her simple acceptance and affection for messed-up me is why I cannot imagine myself happy with any other person on planet earth. She will be mine eventually – she's just not ready right at this moment._

"Bella, when you say things like that…"

My voice trailed off as I went about washing her hair. Awkwardly, I struggled to contain all of the slippery strands. She rinsed the soap out of her hair as I struggled also to organize my thoughts. She went about quickly conditioning her hair.

_Don't rush her. You agreed to leave this alone. _

"When I say what?" There was genuine curiosity in her voice. She looked at me gain before leaning under the spray to rinse. She also sounded a little cold. Her teeth were chattering.

"I think the hot water is running out. Let's get towels and dry off," I offered as a distraction.

She was tenacious and would not be dissuaded.

"When I say what, what happens, Edward?"

I pulled an obscenely thick white robe over her shoulders, carefully leading her arms into the sleeves. She wound her hair into a turban while I wrapped a towel around my waist.

"When you say how much you like giving and receiving pleasure with me, it makes me feel like I'm on a 'How to Be a Better Lover DVD." I chuckled at my own ridiculous comparison.

She got a frustrated look on her face. She was rearranging her features so that a smile could not form. Finally, she gained command of her features and put her hands on her hips.

"I call bullshit. That totally was not what you were going to say."

"Wouldn't you like to know? I call free pass. I don't have to tell you unless you give something up."

"Masen, I've already given up everything and then some. You sex-tutored me back into being a fully functioning woman. We live together. I'm probably going to end up having your baby snots eventually. What more do you…?"

I'm sure a self-satisfied grin was stealing over my triumphant face. She sputtered for just a minute before throwing her hands up in the air and dramatically storming out of the bedroom. I started laughing like a crazy man.

_She may not be ready to let me propose to her, but she definitely sees my invading avengers impregnating her one day. Awesome! She totally wants to be with me forever; she just can't say it out loud yet._

I found her in the small kitchen pouring a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. There was a pouty expression on her face as she poured milk, not fat free, into her cereal.

_She's going to have to dump that out. There's no way she can gulp down 2% milk without gagging._

She was four bites in to her post-sex snack before I realized she was scarfing down the cereal like there was no tomorrow.

_You might want to intersperse the sex with more calories. Poor love was hungry. I wonder what that milk transformation means. She never would drink anything other than fat free any time I've seen her. It's like she doesn't even notice._

I poured my own bowl of cereal and joined her at the kitchen table. I didn't say anything. I didn't need to. This was a waiting game. There was no way she would be able to out-quiet me on this one. I finally looked up. She was staring at me, spoon held aloft –milk dripping back into her bowl, most likely hoping I would be the first one to speak.

_Say something innocuous._

"I'm personally more a fan of 'Cookie Crisp'. This is far too healthy for the likes of me," I announced before taking a giant spoonful of wholegrain goodness.

Her spoon was still hanging there. She finished bringing it to her mouth, realized it was empty, and dropped the spoon into the bowl with a loud clang. I started refilling her bowl, knowing she was likely still hungry.

"Don't." Her voice was clipped, short. I set the box back on the table, but she gestured with her hand to go ahead and fill the bowl. I resumed shaking the box until it was half full again.

"Don't talk about Cookie Crisp. I know you want to talk about….about…"

"Just say it Bella. 'The future.' It's not that hard. The future will get here even if you do nothing. We're both going to be finished with school soon. Then what?"

She left the last portion of Cheerios in the bowl and got up from the table. She pushed her chair in, slowly. I had never pulled myself in towards the table. She filled the gap by straddling my lap and hugging me tightly.

"Can't we just be together forever, have whatever you want – rugrats, puppies, but not get married?"

My back stiffened involuntarily.

_So she will live with me, sleep with me, have kids with me if I want to, but she won't take my name, my ring? What the fuck?_

I was suddenly restraining anger. I took several deep breaths before speaking.

_She said she needed time._

_I don't think she needs time. I think she's allowing some kind of irrational fear to take over._

"What are you afraid of, Bella?" I struggled to keep my voice even. Regardless of how rejected I felt that she didn't like the idea of marrying me.

"I'm not afraid of anything! You don't know what you're talking about." Her voice was belligerent and deceitful. She was fucking terrified. She couldn't even look me in the eye.

I repeated the question.

"What is it, Bella? Why are you so scared of the next logical step for us?"

"Because!"

"That's not an answer. Spit. It. Out."

"Marriage is a trick, Edward. It gives you a false sense of security. It's fragile. It breaks, and then you're all alone. I can live with us choosing to be together every day. I can live with being there for you. What I can't live with? Promising everything with you, and then watching while it all falls apart."

_She's afraid of failure – just like you are. Give her some confidence._

I tilted her chin up until we had eye contact again.

"Do you want two kids or three?" My voice left no room for argument.

Her mouth fell open.

"I don't…"

"Don't think! Just answer."

"Fine, then. I want three."

_Success. Finally some truth._

I gripped her ass and brought her firmly onto my burgeoning erection. I was still wearing only a towel. She was naked under the robe. She wiggled to get more comfortable and I groaned. I lifted my head and began speaking again. My tone of voice was ordinary, matter-of-fact.

"Who do you want to have sex with other than me?"

"What the fuck? I don't want to get naked with anyone else you dork!"

_Thank God. That was not a fun question._

"If I go ahead and build our dream house. You know, the one with the wrap around porch _and _the balcony off the master bedroom…Would you be okay if I found another woman, married her, and moved her into _our_ house?"

I squeezed her hips, watching as she digested the question. She got that fierce look on her small face. It was comical to me, but I held myself back from chuckling.

"Who the fuck is she, Edward! I'll fucking cut the bitch!"

I was suddenly laughing again. I buried my face in the cleavage gaping from her robe.

_Crazy woman._

"I have a few more questions. Don't answer, love. Just think."

She pursed her lips but refrained from speaking.

"Who makes you feel like the best version of yourself?"

She gazed straight into my face and then rolled her eyes at me. The answer was obvious to both of us.

"Who can you see yourself growing old with?"

She reached up a hand and pushed my damp, unruly hair off my forehead. She ran a hand down my cheek to my neck and then stopped.

"You'd still be handsome, you jerk. I'll get all wrinkly, and you'll be all older-man soap-opera cute."

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to get quiet again. I kissed the side of her neck and she grew still.

"Who do you belong with, Bella?" I whispered this one softly into her ear.

She wrapped her arms around me and whispered back.

"You."

**A/N: I have no personal problems with feminism, so please don't get angry with my characterization of Jessica. I really don't see her as some kind of negative stereotype. She is just one of those people who likes to pontificate – about anything. I just had to choose something that might be abrasive to Edward in the wrong dosage.**


	26. Epiphany

**A/N: Last chapter! Finally. Definitely re-read a chapter or two if you have no idea what story this is…. It's only been a year or two since my last post. I assume there are still a ****few Duck Fuckers out there.**

**Epiphany**

A Noun

Existing in Middle English and Old French (epiphanie),

Late Latin (epiphania)

and Greek (epiphaneia _manifestation_ and epiphainesthai, _to appear_)

A sudden manifestation of the essence or meaning of something.

A comprehension or perception of reality by means of a sudden intuitive realization

Meaning originally derives from a Christian feast

celebrating the manifestation of the divine nature of Jesus

to the Gentiles as represented by the Magi.

BPOV

I was putting together a salad for dinner when my mind kept slipping into unwanted territory. I stood at the cutting board in our little sex-a-thon cabin, as I'd come to think of it. Needing something to occupy my hands, I had decided to start dinner a little early.

I still couldn't get over how much I'd changed in the time that I'd come to know him so well. I was a semester away from finishing my degree. Edward had completed his coursework ahead of time by connecting with his last two professors and arranging to do the projects in advance. His eye for design and his knowledge of what his instructors wanted allowed him to work at the speed of a professional. He had graduated, in every sense of the word, into a very capable young architect.

I had made decent headway on my food prep. The lettuce was thoroughly rinsed and waiting; the cucumber was peeled and resting quietly near a handful of grape-sized tomatoes; the salad dressing was freshly prepared and chilling in the refrigerator.

_So why am I so antsy?_

_You're __going to try and act as though you're _not_ being a complete idiot?_

_No. I'm not an idiot. I'm cautious, and I've learned from my parent's mistakes._

Drying my damp hands on a towel, I began dicing thin slices of red onion. The mindless monotony of the work allowed me to continue the debate going on in my head.

_Don't you mean your mother's mistakes?_

_Well, maybe._

_Maybe?_

_Okay, you're right. My mom has some serious hang-ups with any kind of follow-through or commitment._

_Hang-ups? Lack of follow-through?I __think that seriously underestimates how fucked up she is. Shall we review?_

_Yes, let's do._

_She left your father because Forks wasn't entertaining enough after she'd said the vows and started a family with him._

_Not good._

_She abandoned you in order to pur__sue some sort of adolescent exploration during her mid-20s._

_Really bad._

_She married again –__ a decent fellow – with a psychopath of a son who sexually violated you._

_Rotten – her primary job as a parent was to protect me._

_She refused to believe your narrative of events and encouraged you _not_ to speak about your sexual assault at the hands of Jame__s._

_Unacceptable._

I heard footsteps shuffle near me before pausing.

"Bella?"

"Hmmmm," I said, distractedly turning to face Edward. My eyes settled on his boots before traveling up to meet his eyes. I was still holding the chef's knife in my hand.

"I think you're done with the red onion," he offered with a smile in his voice.

"No, I just have a little bit to finish up. I was going to…"

My voice trailed off into nothingness as he gently pried the knife from my hand and set it far away on the counter. He slowly turned me to face the cutting board and directed my attention to the pulpy, wet mess of near-puréed onion I'd been chopping on auto-pilot.

I started to chuckle nervously, and decided to try to use bravado to disguise my embarrassment. With perfectly annoying timing, I blushed beet red.

"What?" I questioned, fake innocence lacing my voice.

He snorted at my ridiculousness.

"Don't you like red onion goo? It's all the rage. Soooo gourmet!"

He pulled me closer to him - into an embrace against the kitchen sink. I received a soft kiss against my neck and a hot kiss on my wrist before he spoke again. I settled into his arms, willingly relaxing.

"Tell me what's bothering you." His voice held no room for dithering.

"Um…"

I tried to slow my spinning brain. I hadn't even processed what exactly was wrong myself. He took a step back and really looked at me, his eyes roving from side to side as he cataloged something in my face.

"I'm not exactly sure. I was thinking about the past, about my mom, and I… maybe…"

I walked absentmindedly as he guided us over to the sofa in the living area of the cabin. I knew I needed a few minutes before I could speak coherently.

"Can we just sit here for a second and do something quietly together? Perhaps a magazine?"

He settled us side by side near the armrest of the couch.

"I was just doing the crossword puzzle. Did you want this one?" he asked.

I perused the magazines lying artlessly on the coffee table.

_Good Housekeeping, Sports Illustrated. Oh, what a cute kid__ - Parenting Magazine? I'll read anything once. It is a strange assortment of magazines in here, though._

_Yeah, whatever. Just skim-read. Look at the pretty pictures. This is supposed to be mindless._

I started flipping pages at a steady clip. The smiling child on the cover flew by. The editor's page and the advertisements for hair products were a blur before I realized what I was reading.

_Snacks. Diapers. Renewing the Sexual Spark. Crimes That Moms Commit. Hmm. What's this?_

I began skimming a list of silly statements and images.

_1. _Purgery: stuffing broken toys into the trash on the sly.

2. Negligee-ence: hiding all lingerie directly after childbirth.

3. Brand Larceny: convincing your child the generic brand is just as good.

4. Assault and Batteries: removing the batteries from a beloved but annoying toy.

5. Ar-son: admitting it was _your _son who painted the neighbor's dog purple.

6. Bond-jumping: avoiding a sticky embrace when in a rush to get to work.

7. Playgiarism: copying another mom's cool party games and passing them off as your own.

8. No-Contest Plea Begging: to get your children to stop whining at each other.

9. White-Collar Offense: dressing your child in white and expecting him to remain relatively clean.

: no example necessary.

_So t__hese are the crimes that good mothers make? How refreshing. Not one of these 'crimes' involve harmful selfishness, abandonment, or betrayal._

_Sooooo, yeah._

_What?_

_Well – this proves it. She wasn't a good mother. She was a bad example – not a great wife o__r model of womanhood in general. I don't have to use her as a measure of anything. She can be my 'what not to do' reference point. _

Closing the magazine and setting it aside, I decided that I could choose who I wanted to be and then simply try my hardest to be that person.

_What about destiny, DNA, and the whole nature vs. nurture debate?_

_It's all bunk. Screw them. I am my own person. They can go sell it somewhere else._

"What's a three letter word for a venomous killer?" Edward asked, turning to look at me. I tossed the magazine back onto the coffee table, crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow.

"You know that one," I affirmed.

"I do?" he questioned, sounding skeptical.

"Yeah. You do. Think Antony and Cleopatra." I paused, waiting for that to sink in.

"You're right. I do know that one. Thanks. A….S….P."

He tossed the folded newspaper aside and looked at me expectantly. I gestured to his lap.

"May I?"

He scooted away from the armrest, allowing me to straddle him, a knee on either side of his hips. His hands slowly cupped around my bottom, anchoring me to him. We both sighed.

"Better?" he asked.

"Much," I declared with a grin.

"And did you figure it out what was bothering you?"

"I did." My voice was surprisingly firm. He waited for me to continue speaking. I rested my hands on his shoulders for balance and began explaining.

"My mom made so many things look impossible. I guess I've always grown up with a sense of longing – a sense of wishing I was normal, because of her. I didn't realize that my choices need not have anything to do with her choices. I can break free from her decisions."

"Decisions?" Edward responded. He was quietly letting me know that he wanted more information without really interrupting my flow of thought.

"Take marriage, for instance. Renee gets married impulsively and regrets the decision later. Marriage is not permanent to her. It's a thing that you do for a while. She makes marriage something less important than it should be."

I released a puff of breath and with it some of the stress I didn't know I was carrying.

"I see where you're going with this," he remarked with a budding grin. "Is there more?"

My answering smile wasn't as big as his. I was feeling a little shy.

"I could be such a better mother than she was."

He had pulled his lower lip between his teeth to suppress his smile. This revealed his attempt to remain serious when I was essentially making his day.

"Would you?" he began to ask. I raised both eyebrows in query. He chuckled, but there was an ominous ring to it.

"Would you say that again, but a little slower, more like an affirmation?"

"Oh Golly Gee Willacres, Edward!"

I rolled my eyes at him and mock-punched him in the stomach. He settled me more firmly on his growing hardness.

"Do it!" he purr-growled into my neck. He may have even thrust upward a little. He leaned back to look at me once more, waiting. His eyes were bright and intense.

_Is he? Oh my gosh, he totally got hard at the thought of me having his kid._

I decided to embellish a little.

"I could be such a loving mom to any babies you give me, Edward."

My voice was saturated with affectionate sweetness. He groaned and thrust upward again.

"One more time," he prompted.

"Some day I wanna' get married and make babies with you, Edward."

I latched myself onto his neck, licking, kissing, and biting. I was running my nose up and down, inhaling his scent. We kissed on the couch like teenagers seeking a few stolen minutes. After we both started to breathe heavily, he pulled back so we could come up for air.

"You would make a great mom, Bella. Renee doesn't have to determine your future. _I'm_ your future."

I kissed him again, unable to resist.

_So sweet. You are my future. With you, I could totally kick ass as a mom._

"I would! She was an abandoning, selfish non-mother."

"Non-mother?"

"Yes. And a non-wife. I've decided to use her as an antithesis. I'll be nearly the exact opposite of her, and I should be just fine."

"I've always known that about you," he said lovingly and went back to kissing my neck.

"I might wig out again. Nothing's certain when it comes to my freak-outs, you know."

He had kissed his way up to the shell of my ear and was sending incredible, shivery feelings up and down my body. I felt my breath break and catch as I spoke.

"I'll….ah….probably need an occasional sex-a-thon… if I start to panic. Therapy, you know, for good health," I rationalized.

"Of course," he murmured his voice rough and low. "It's better this way – more orgasms, fewer migraines. I'll just fuck the stress right out of you."

~FTT~

And that's exactly what he did – on the couch, in the chair adjacent to the couch, on top of the cabin's rickety kitchen table. We even had an interlude against the freezer door. Apparently fellating an ice cube was grounds for a rowdy but enjoyable fucking in Edward's world.

The sex-a-thon was a success. We had officially moved beyond our sexual hang-ups into a reality where Edward's insatiability and my former sexual repressions were non-issues. If anything, our differences had become assets. Edward's perpetual hard-on had revealed my own propensity for multiple orgasms. My own need for physical affection had opened up new possibilities for Edward – the possibilities of remaining in a healthy relationship filled with love and affection instead of a series of relationships filled with bitterness and recriminations.

We had been back in Westwood for a little while when it happened. I say "it" because there is no other way to describe that day. The Saturday that concluded our vacation week in Big Bear had been a lazy one. We packed our belongings and navigated the two hour drive back home in the sleek Land Rover. Edward pulled the car into a numbered space that wasn't the usual place he or I parked. I turned to him, puzzled.

"You're parking here?"

_This is odd, why would he park somewhere else when the spaces are numbered and…_

_Oh sweet Jesus – tell me he didn't buy a really expensive car for our alpine vacation._

"It appears that I am." He grinned over at me before putting the car in park.

_Do I say something?_

_Say something._

_No. He's really happy. I don't want to be the harbinger of relationship doom today._

_Yeah! Who ever said you could dictate how he spends his obscene monthly income anyhow?_

_Okay. Not my business. __I will refrain from being a money-shrew._

He pulled the keys from the ignition and exited the driver's side to help me down from the passenger seat.

I went toward the trunk to grab one of the bags. He handed me the heavy coats we had not worn and grabbed both of the bags. I closed the hatch on the back of the vehicle, and we walked the path to the front door. Upon entry, I put our coats in the hall closet while he deposited our bags in the laundry room to sort through later.

I walked past the living room and kitchen, heading straight for our bedroom. I fell back onto the bed and stretchy my car-weary muscles. He stood in the doorway, a palm on either side of the frame.

"Are you tired?" he inquired.

"I don't think so." I tilted my head, considering. "I guess I could be tired. A nap might be in my future."

His facial features arranged themselves into a look of puzzlement. He walked forward and rested a knee on the mattress.

"So, you foresee a future tired coming on followed by a future nap. Is that about right?" he clarified.

"That's it, exactly," I affirmed. I sat up a little, reaching over to pull him closer by his belt buckle. He moved forward until he was hovering above me on the bed, his weight resting on his hands and knees.

"How are you feeling, Edward? Did the drive wear you out?" I ran my hands from the back of his waist up to the top of his broad shoulders.

His lips twitched with a smile, and then he suppressed it to declare, "Well, I'm not so much tired as I am hungry."

"Oh," I huffed out in disappointment. My hands slid from his shoulders back down to the comforter.

_Apparently you have not mastered the art of sexual innuendo yet._

"I think we have fixings for sandwiches if you really are hungry," I threw out half-heartedly. My eyes settled on the indentation at the base of his neck where a hint of chest hair peeped out from his shirt.

"Sandwiches are nice, but that is not really what I'm craving." My eyes darted up to his and found a teasing look on his face. "I'm experiencing a hunger of a different sort," he mused aloud. I could feel an idiotic grin taking over my face.

"Ahhh, I see. I see. Perhaps I can help you with this particular hunger?" I may have wiggled a little bit in anticipation. He had both of my shoes off and was tugging on my jeans. I lifted my hips to help him. Before long, I was sitting there in silky panties and a tee shirt. He groaned.

"God, I still can't get enough of you." Edward was rubbing an index finger on the sensitive skin behind my knee.

"A one week sex-a-thon wasn't enough for you?" I acknowledged.

"Nope. I need more. I'll always need more. I'm insatiable for you, and right now, I need a taste."

The panties came off; my shirt slid over my head and landed with a quiet whoosh on the floor. Edward removed my bra last. I was sitting there, naked. He was still fully clothed. I reached for his belt buckle. He leaned back, out of reach.

"I'm hungry, remember?" he nearly growled.

_Oh my God, Edward._

He pulled my hips to the edge of the bed, and I was balanced there. He placed a foot over his shoulder. The other rested on the bed. He was trailing kisses up my inner thighs. I was shaking, I was so turned on.

"I'm so wet for you, Edward." My voice cracked a little.

"I can't wait," he stated, in a rush. He spread my pussy lips open with his thumbs. "All mine." He licked up one side and then the other, drinking in everything I had. The swipe of his tongue near my clit made my whole body jerk. He licked up the other side, engaging my sensitive nerves again; I felt my insides clench as I whimpered.

"Please, Edward," I begged.

He focused his tongue in swirls around my clit. I couldn't restrain the movements of my hips. He pressed his hands to lock either one around my thighs. I was pressed open, restrained, and he was tonguing my clit in slow circles.

"Please what, Bella?" he questioned back.

"Oh God, Edward. Please make me come!" I cried out. "I'm so close." I gasped and moaned, loudly this time.

_Please don't stop. Please don't stop._

"What do you need, love?" he asked, moving away from my flesh for a moment. My whole body was throbbing at that point. I was on the edge of falling.

"Fingers," I gasped. "I need you to finger fuck me."

He placed his pursed lips back over my clit and slid two of his large digits inside and up, curling them toward me. The pads of those fingers rubbed once, twice, and I was coming. I counted the pulses as my body gripped and pulled around his fingers. My pulse was pounding in my ears. I bit my lip to keep from yelling.

"Gah!"

_One…_

_Fuck yes, that feels so good._

_Two…_

_That's it, right there._

_Three…_

_Wow, wow, wow._

_Four…_

_Five…_

_It aches, it's so sweet._

_Six…_

_Holy shit, he's rubbing faster._

_Seven…_

_Eight…_

_Feels so awesome, now I __want his cock._

_Nine…_

_You greedy bitch._

_Ten…_

_Any more clenches?_

_Eleven.._

_That's it – Whew._

A smug grin, no doubt, covered my satisfied face.

"That's the look I love," he crooned. "You look so happy, just like the cat that licked the cream."

"How odd," I breathed out, "it was you who did the licking," and snickered.

He chuckled and groaned in the same breath, his eyes closing.

_He must be hard as a rock right now._

"Can I touch you?" I inquired, cautiously, lowering one leg and then the other.

"This was supposed to be entirely about you," he explained with a crease on his brow.

"It still is," I countered. "I'm unbuckling and unzipping. Take a deep breath. Do you need me to squeeze?"

His firm arousal sprung free of the confines of his clothing. It speared up toward my body as though seeking its home. He grimaced and nodded, his head moving quickly, a grunt sounding out from between clenched teeth.

"I've got you now," I soothed before pressing firmly at the base of his erection, as was habit. Estimating the elapsed time, I released him before leaning up onto my hands. His erection twitched, but sprang back again.

He exhaled and opened his eyes. They landed on my face, reading the renewed need there before honing in directly on my erect nipples. He'd yet to touch them. Each hand took a rounded globe of flesh into his hands, his thumbs roving hypnotically over the nipples, back and forth. I gripped his erection and smoothed his body through my wet heat. The rasp of his foreskin on my sensitive tissues was electric. I carefully moved the ring of flesh back, revealing his glistening pink glans.

_He's beautiful. We're gorgeous together._

He caught each nipple between thumb and forefinger and applied pressure while I guided him in, slowly.

"More?" he checked, squeezing a little more on my nipples.

"Harder," I directed, and the twin sensations of being filled with his hardness while he squeezed my nipples caused a phantom clench to grip him.

"Unnnnh," he moaned. "Are you coming, again?" He stopped mid-entry, breathing deeply.

"Maybe. Squeeze a little harder…there. Damn, that is amazing."

He began thrusting in an out, in measured movements. I noticed my heart rate speeding up again.

"Come for me. I want to see you lose control." My voice was getting breathy again.

He adjusted our positions until my ass was hanging entirely off the bed and in his cupped palms. He was slowly pulling out of my body. I felt the absence of him, missed the fullness immediately.

"Are you?" I lifted up to see what he was doing. He was patiently rubbing the head of his wet erection over my clit and pressing inside an inch before sliding back up again. He was basically driving me crazy with the head of his cock.

"OH!" I exclaimed. My head fell back against the bed. I moaned again before I caught myself. He did this a dozen times before I got demanding again.

"Please, inside?" I begged.

He slammed home and back out.

"Yes!" I cried out in response.

He slid home - again and again. His last thrust sent him in balls deep – as deep as he could go. He hovered there, gasping; a rivulet of sweat ran down the side of his temple. I reached up to flick it away and kissed his pectoral muscle. We lingered there a minute, both of us regaining oxygen as he regained a renewed measure of control. Two hot hands cupped and squeezed the softness of my backside and he wiggled us closer still. I wrapped my legs tightly around him, my heels pressed into his derriere.

With our bodies basically glued together, he placed a hand to support my lower back and inched his other hand between our bodies down to my clit. He pressed his thumb and rubbed, just rubbed, until my internal muscles went on alert again.

He was rubbing, and rubbing.

I felt so damn full.

_He's not even fucking moving and your whole core is on meltdown._

_Rubbing, and rubbing, and rubbing._

Everything tightened even further. I squeezed my eyes shut.

_It's too much pleasure. I can't contain it._

"I'm close," I warned him, gasping.

He pulled out and thrust back in, his thumb still rasping over my clit.

_Wiggle away. It's intense. It's too much._

My body jerked and spasmed, and then gripped around him in pulses.

"You're coming," he declared.

"Unnnnhhhh," I keened, my neck arching.

"Fuck," he bellowed, and started slam-fucking me with wild intensity. I held onto him tightly, my body over sensitized, jerking in response as he lost all control and was driven entirely by the movement of his hips. I loved watching him give in to his own sexual demands. It was so honest and so all consuming. He grunted and sped up his movements. It didn't take long before he reached his own release, crying my name out as his body arched into ecstasy. His forehead was resting against mine for several breaths before he leaned back to look at me, and smiled, still panting.

"I think that curbed my hunger a little bit," he decided aloud, pulling out of my body.

I gave him a smacking kiss before he leaned away to fully remove the rest of his clothing.

"Of course it went well. It's you and me." I grinned back at him before pulling at the bedclothes to snuggle under the covers. He slipped in beside me and we settled into a familiar embrace. I yawned, loudly.

"See? I told you I felt a nap coming on." He sputtered his laughter into the back of my hair.

We slept the afternoon away and later roused in search of food. Foregoing attempts to cook, we ordered pizza and were waiting for it to arrive. I lazed on his cowboy-couch with a satisfied groan. He settled nearby and turned my body so that my legs were lying across his lap. We sat there companionably in the silence for a few moments.

He pursed his lips and turned to me, a look of indecision on his face.

"Do you remember the contract?"

"How could I forget?" I mused. I remembered drafting it and the conversation we'd had then. "I assume

you mean a particular part of it?"

"Well, take our job titles for one. I liked those. What did it mean to you when you gave me a slightly senior job description?" The expression on his face was pensive.

"You mean your title of Sexual CEO to mine as VP of Sexual Relations?" I twitched a foot before arching the ankle in slow circle.

_I need to get up and stretch my legs._

Tucking my body into a crouch, I rolled off the couch and into an upright position. His eyes followed me as I analyzed my thoughts from long ago, pacing as I went. I stopped after a minute.

"I think it was more than I knew back then." He sat up a little straighter, his attention hooked.

"Elaborate, please." His words sounded imperative, but his tone was velvety – requesting, not demanding.

My wandering brought me over to the window and I looked out briefly before walking over to sit on the coffee table directly in front of him. He straightened even further, if possible. He widened the stance of his legs and dragged the coffee table forward several inches until my knees were flush with the V of his body. He grinned his crooked grin and planted a sweet, affectionate kiss on my forehead. Dimly, I observed that he was sitting on his hands.

_Maybe he's restless from the drive too. I feel a little twitchy, like I need to go for a walk._

_Focus, Bella. He asked for clarification._

"When I made you the sexual CEO, my initial thought was that you're the boss sexually, since you have more experience and someone needs to be making those initial decisions as to the pacing of our…."

I paused while searching for the right word. He supplied it for me.

"Our sexual experimentation?"

"Yeah."

I put my hands on his firm thighs, one on each leg, my smaller fingers barely wrapping around the top of his leg. He was still sitting on his hands.

"As our relationship has strengthened, and I've grown up a little bit, I'm realizing that I trust you completely in every aspect of our time together. I trust you to love me, to protect me, to plan the future for us. I trust you in every way possible."

"You really mean that?" He sounded inordinately pleased.

"I really mean that," I affirmed, nodding decisively.

"Even if I wanted to buy you some ridiculous piece of jewelry just for the hell of it?"

_Jewelry – sure. It's just a thing._

"Um, yeah, as long as it's not butt ugly."

He mumbled under his breath, "…Nothing ugly, okay."

One of his knees was bouncing up and down as he was gesturing wildly with one of his hands.

_Wow. He's all ramped up by this._

"Even if we move out of this condo into something bigger?" There was ill-concealed excitement in his voice. I thought about it.

"Sure. I don't care exactly where we live, as long as I'm with you."

"What about money? You're going to have to eventually accept that my assets will become yours." He had a skeptical eyebrow raised.

I laughed and rolled my eyes.

_I'm actually tired of money being the thir__d wheel in this relationship. If I can accept that I will never become my mother, then I can also accept that arguing about money and who deserves it is equally juvenile._

"Yep, even there. I don't think anything you do could squick me out; we've been through so much."

He took both of my hands in his. I looked into his loving gaze, feeling so blessed to be exactly there.

"So, I can pay off any outstanding credit card debt that you have?"

I thought about it for a second.

_Yeah. I'm done frea__king out about money._

"Absolutely," I replied, giggling carelessly. I was suddenly giddy. He laughed with me for a moment, but paused, thinking.

_I feel free, so free to be his entirely._

"So, I can—"Edward scratched his neck, apparently searching for the right way to phrase his question. He took a deep breath before continuing. "I can give you that Land Rover parked outside?" He had more to say, but stopped to gauge my reaction. I was frozen, trying to process the reality of what he'd just told me.

"It's not a rental – it's yours if you want it. Are you sure you won't argue some kind of limitation on such a gift?"

My mouth fell open in shock, but I nodded my head up and down. He gave out a mighty whoop and pulled me to standing.

"What have you done with my Bella?" he questioned, chuckling.

"I'm her. I'm me. Bella 2.0" My face hurt a little from smiling, so I consciously relaxed my face, looking down. Suddenly, I was gazing at the top of his crazy hair. He was kneeling before me in exactly the same place where he'd taught me how to really kiss.

"Bella Marie Swan," he began slowly.

I held my breath, realizing all of the physical signs of his nervousness had been leading up to this. Despite my desire to remain emotionally unflappable, I felt a single tear of happiness track its way down my cheek.

"Will you do me the outstanding honor of being my wife?"

I was nodding my head up and down in affirmation when he spoke again.

"Marry me, Bella, and make me the happiest man on earth."

"Yes, Edward, yes – a thousand times, yes."

We kissed passionately right then – he was still kneeling, and I was hunched over to line up our mouths, tears getting in the way, and breathless emotion overcoming us both. He brushed the tears off my face. I pulled him to a standing position, so I could hug the daylights out of him. We hugged and rocked, just soaking up the moment.

Suddenly he kissed me gently on the forehead. I looked up at him, sheepishly. "Do you remember when it was a big deal that we could hug without me freaking out?" I could hear the surprised wonder in my own voice.

"I can remember when you told me that you felt turned on for the first time ever," he breathed out against my hair. "You'll have no idea how hard I was for the rest of that night – just imagining you getting wet for me. God, that was an insane night," he decided.

"We're really doing this, aren't we?" He seemed a little in shock.

"It appears we are." I was no better than him in the shock department, until an idea occurred to me.

"Hey, Edward?" My face was still pressed into his chest. I eased up on the power hug. He relaxed as well.

"Where's my ring?" He looked chagrined, and grabbed his coat from where he'd placed it upon entry. He fumbled with a zipper and returned holding a black velvet box triumphantly.

"Here. Open it."

I tilted my head to one side, looked back at him, and then looked down at the box in my hand. I pried the lid open, looked and started to giggle.

"This is plastic! And it has….what the hell?...there's a frog on it, Edward. You have to explain this McDonald's ring. I don't…!"

He was kissing me quiet seconds later. He kept kissing me until I was clinging to him and boneless, and probably wet again despite our pre-nap activities earlier.

"It's not from McDonald's," he explained with slightly injured dignity. "It's from Disneyland. I found it at one of the gift shops. It's from _The Princess and the Frog_ movie. It's the best plastic frog-ring money can buy."

_Oh jeez – you've got to be kidding me._

"There was more than one to choose from?" I had a hand over my brow and my eyes closed at the idea.

_Only Disney marketing would have several plastic rings at several price points – and all for a kid._

He put it on me. It only fit up to the first knuckle.

"I couldn't select something so important without you. You'll have to come with me to pick out a ring." I could tell that even seeing this plastic monstrosity on my hand pleased him no end.

Affecting a very serious tone I told him, "Edward, I will treasure this always." He rolled his eyes at me and I snort-laughed.

"It came with a plastic tiara, and size 4 little girl shoes. I don't think the shoes will work, but could you model the tiara and the ring….maybe as a clothing optional ensemble?" He managed not to smile at all, although his cheek twitched with the effort to remains serious. I pretended to consider this.

"I think that could be arranged," I answered, tongue in cheek. "Perhaps, just a bowtie for you?"

"Done," he whispered before we kissed again.

**A/N:**

**That's it. This is so incredibly overdue. I can't even explain all the reasons why it took so long to make the ending happen. To those of you who were able to hang in there, thank you. To those of you I've irritated in my offensive tardiness, I humbly beg your apology. It's been very enjoyable, and I could not have had nearly so much joy without all of you.**

**There is a short epilogue in the works. Keep an eye out for that.**

**To my beta, TwilightMomofTwo: You've taught me so much abou****t writing, the fandom, and about being a good friend. Thank you doesn't sound like nearly enough.**


	27. Epilogue: Under the Willow Trees

Epilogue: Under the Willow Trees

**Copse**

a collective noun

Middle English _copys; _Old French _copeiz_

derived from terms _coper_ and _couper_ meaning _to cut_

commonly in use: 16th century England _esp. 1578_

a thicket of underwood,

small trees, or shrubs

EPOV

We're very happy together, the three of us. Life is moving along in its rapid pace and every day gets better than the last. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me go back to the beginning. This is the story of how I got a ring on my girl.

We were sitting in the car, preparing to go shopping for a ring. Before I turned the key in the ignition, I glanced over to gauge her mood. The sun had reached that ten A.M. slant in the sky, and I captured her hand to see her eyes before she had a chance to hide them behind her sunglasses.

"You know it's okay if you're freaking out a little, right?"

_Big changes are never her strong suit. Slow and steady has been the plan all along. _

_So why ring shopping today?_

_We've had a few weeks to adjust to life after the sex-a-thon; we haven't had any new or weird issues crop up; we got an appointment at Tiffany's. _

_Enough! Why do I have to justify anything? We're ready._

_Is she definitely ready?_

_I certainly hope so. Is she freaking out?_

I peered over at her as she clipped the seatbelt and again witnessed the turmoil she'd been trying to conceal all morning. Her twitchy response when I'd helped her with a sweater and her sweaty palms were indicative of a case of amped nerves. Bella was always somewhat energetic, but this was more than normal.

"Edward – we've discussed this at length. My days of freaking out over frivolous matters like money are over," she responded before sighing and folding her arms in front of her.

"Oh, come on! You just used the words 'frivolous' and 'money' in the same sentence. You have to be freaking out a little bit," I prodded, wanting her to be honest about her feelings.

_There it is – that pouty expression that means she's fighting her own nature. Just let her freak out. You are the calm one – it usually helps. One of us gets to freak out about something and the other is supportive. _

_Be supportive; don't be insecure. _

_It's not about you. It's not about you!_

_Of course it's about you._

_No, it's not. She's the product of a train wreck divorce – that makes her act irrationally toward marriage sometimes. _

_My issues have nothing to do with this. Just let her be. In fact, shut the hell up._

I moved my seat to the furthest position and lowered the backrest until I was slightly reclined. Once comfortable, I waited – looking at her but not pressuring her with words. It didn't take long.

"I refuse to admit to any feelings of freakage or any other potential anxiety-driven emotions."

She didn't look over at me when she made that declaration. I waited another beat, knowing there was more.

"Which Tiffany's location are we going to?" she asked quickly, shifting in the seat to face me.

"The closest one is on Rodeo Drive," I responded.

"Is this the Rodeo Drive that's in Beverly Hills?" Her gaze moved to the scenery outside.

"There's only one in this area. Yes, we're going to Beverly Hills. Still not freaking out?"

_You know you want to tell me what's on your mind. Open up to me._

I reached over and lifted her left hand for a gentle kiss. She seemed to blink back into awareness of me, and possibly into awareness of my love for her.

"Do you want a number?" There was a resigned note of acceptance in her tone.

"From one to ten?" I inquired, helping her along.

"Yeah." She took a deep breath while lifting an index finger to her mouth. I stopped her from destroying a cuticle.

_Here we go. The dam of silence breaks. Thank you for letting me in, Bella._

"We're going shopping as a newly engaged couple – which means we're going out in public that way. We'll answer questions about our relationship. Most of that is good – you'll call me your fiancée; I like that. Shopping of course sucks, but you're always fun."

She wrapped a hand around mine before continuing. "And I'm going to wear a big rock on my finger." She looked down at our hands. Combined with mine, her fingers seemed smaller than usual.

_Pay careful attention to the size of that rock. _

_She apparently thinks I'm going to lob some giant boulder onto her hand._

"We'll be doing this shopping in Beverly Hills, more precisely, Rodeo Drive – one of the most expensive places to shop on earth."

I unbuckled the seatbelt she'd fastened and hauled her onto my lap.

_Fucking gearshift. _

_There…there. Shift a little – better._

Now I could cuddle, kiss and caress anywhere I wanted. Her words were slowing down already. I was kissing the skin leading toward the V-neck of her t-shirt and sweater.

"Sometime in the future…" her anxious tirade paused as she moaned out, "Mmm, Edward, in the future–"

"My life-long, loving future with you?" I shifted the slight weight of her hip off my emerging erection.

"Yes, that one. Now where was I?" She sounded thoroughly disoriented. I'd just plumped one of her breasts out of her bra and clothing to suck on a nipple.

"Oh, my fucking – Gah, Edward! One of your renegade sperm troupers is going to invade my uterine castle, and we'll be p-p-parents." She was panting.

"Is that the future where I come inside you over and over until you're pregnant with my child?"

"I think…?" She gasped and moaned, loudly. I glanced around to make sure we were still alone in the carport. Not a soul was near. This space was at the end of the row, sheltered by palm trees.

"Where there's no birth control, no condom, just you and me and lots and lots of fucking and love-making and my fingers right about here?"

My hand was on the outside of her clothing, gently cupping and rubbing the heat I felt developing between her thighs. Her hips tilted forward, seeking. I held her firmly, not wanting to get her fully naked in our very public parking space. However, her nipple was ever so distracting. I continued to manipulate it until it was pink and distended.

"I haven't even started thinking about the…oh, that feels so good…" I pulled harder at her pebbled bud.

"Thinking about what?" I prompted.

"The um, the wedding. Um, no. I'm not freaking out. I'm totally fine - one hundred percent Zen."

_Cue the laugh track._

"That bad, huh?" I commiserated. She gripped my hand tightly and nodded in response.

"Can you do three, no four, things for me?" she breathed against my shoulder.

"Yes. What would those be?" I removed my hand from her womanly softness, with reluctance.

_Put your hands on her hips. Tuck that fuck-hot tit back where it belongs._

_But I!_

_Do it._

_One more lick, one more suck._

_Stop perving on her tits, already._

_Fuck, okay._

"You have to hold my hand the whole time." She leaned up to kiss my jawline.

"That's a given. Next," I prodded. She wiggled her hips against my straining erection. I groaned.

"God, Bella – If we didn't have an appointment at this place!" I tried to conceal the sexual frustration in my tone, but failed.

"I know. This is not how we usually spend a Sunday." She went back to kissing my jaw and then paused again. "What time is it?"

"It's a little after ten. At this time, I usually have one of your ankles behind my ear, and I'm fucking the sleepy right out of you. It's a good place to be. No, strike that; it's an excellent place to be. Do you want to skip this? We could just look through one of those thick magazines and then hire a personal shopper."

_Say skip it. Say skip it. _

_I vote for hard dick in wet pussy. _

_Put it in and then slide it back out. Then ease it in again before gliding back out, so that the flesh of the sensitive side is dragging on the…_

_Fuck – stop thinking about it. _

_You're here to stake your claim. Get a ring on her. You've waited twenty-two days to do this. _

_It's not about your cock; it's about her ring finger._

_Not about my cock?_

_No._

_When is it not about my cock?_

_Shut the hell up. You need an amorous repellent. Think, think, think._

_I got nothing._

_Think some more._

_Maybe this one. Okay, female a body builder who tans too much. She tans so much she looks like an oompa-loompa with scary bulging muscles and veins popping out. She's wearing a very skimpy bathing suit._

_Bathing suit? Skimpy? Lots of girl skin?_

_Shut up. The overall effect is still gross._

I shook off my distracting but necessary thoughts. Bella was calling my name.

"Edward, are you listening?" she said. "I'm being ridiculous, and I know it. That's why I'm so jittery. I want to govern my reactions, but then I just end up spazzing out all over you."

_You still have a hard on; take her back inside._

_No, better yet, get her naked and then get back inside her._

"Let's go back inside. You can spazz out under me, or over me, or in front of me. How about with your leg angled back over my thigh?"

She looked at me patiently and then sighed before tapping my seat back, silently urging me to get ready to go. I helped her back into her seat before starting the engine and adjusting the seam of my jeans to the other side of my aching hard on. She grew quiet for a moment as I let the car warm up. I forced myself to think of another amorously repellant image.

_One of the two fat ladies is stirring three sticks of butter in a large urn. Her third chin jiggles as she discusses the importance of thoroughly cooking the bacon in melted butter._

_Gagg. Fat cooked in vats of fat._

Bella was looking over at me and talking again. I focused on the disturbing images until my annoying erection was gone.

"Remind me to breathe. I might actually freak out; you can't just throw me on the couch like you usually do and scramble my brains with sex. I'm pretty sure Tiffany's doesn't have a couch for neurotic fiancées."

Affecting my own expression of mock seriousness I swayed her thigh gently.

"You never know, Bella. Tiffany's is _very _accommodating. They could have a …"

"A what?" she questioned with a skeptical huff. I scratched the hair at the back of my neck, considering.

"An emergency couch. A supply room? You know, we've never done it standing up in a bathroom before. I'm game. Are you game?"

"Hush, you." She kissed me, grinning, knowing I was kidding for her sake.

_Grinning is much better. Hard on is gone. Stop mentioning sex, now._

"Alright. What's the third request? Should I write these down on a sticky note?"

"I'm not even responding to that, mister eidetic memory. Oh, last one! Do that thing where you kiss my neck and whisper something totally distracting in my ear. I pretty much dig that one all the time." She clicked the stereo on in the car and began channel surfing.

"Something distracting? Maybe something from the ancient Romans? Anything else?" I pulled my seat back into a vertical position. She fastened her seatbelt, and I put the car in reverse to maneuver out of the complex.

"Please don't let anyone tell me how much anything costs. I don't want to know."

"The ever so discrete staff at Tiffany's would never do such a horrible thing to you." I couldn't restrain a man-chuckle. I glanced over at her – her hands were relaxed, and there was no leg-bobbing in sight.

"Feel better?"

"Immensely. You just brought my ten point four down to a two. This is actually manageable now. Maybe you can pick the size of the rock. How's that sound?"

"We'll decide rock size together," I assured her.

"Together. Okay." She sounded like herself again.

~~FTT~~

Bella and I walked at an easy pace toward our destination. The stone footpath took us up and down little hills before we approached the gleaming storefront of Tiffany's. A store attendant was stationed at the front door to help direct guests.

"Good morning, my name is Austin. Are you here to browse, or do you have an appointment with a consultant?"

"I'm Edward Masen, and this lovely creature is my fiancée, Bella Swan." I answered happily. Bella nudged her forehead into my shoulder, no doubt embarrassed at my compliments.

"Mr. Masen, Ms. Swan. Here, allow me to get the door." Chrome, glass, and lush carpeting heralded our entrance to the posh establishment. I shook hands with Austin. He gestured for us to walk toward the back of the store.

"I spoke with Kate Marshall on the phone. Is everything all arranged?"

Bella didn't walk forward to look in any of the cases. She stayed by my side, comfortably holding my hand.

"Yes, sir. It's my job to personally attend to every detail. Let me know if there is anything else that you need," he responded deferentially. "Kate is waiting to help you ahead at door number three."

We walked around the glass display cases, winding our way toward the back wall. Bella tugged on my hand to ask me a question. I stopped walking and leaned down to her level.

"We won't be in the open room?" She stood on tiptoes to whisper in my ear.

"I thought a little seclusion would be more comfortable. These are the rooms used for celebrity clients." We continued walking until we found the correct door. I gestured for Bella to walk in ahead of me.

"Wow," Bella breathed.

All of the soft surfaces in the room were white. The velvety chairs were the color of fluffy clouds. The thick rug that mimicked the square shape of the room was a creamy color. Two of the intersecting walls were mirrored, and an elaborate crystal chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling.

_Interesting design choices. No extraneous color to distract from the brilliance of the diamonds?_

A woman who appeared to be in her mid-thirties entered the room. She had red hair in a short style ending at her chin, and she was wearing a tailored white suit.

"Good Morning, Ms. Swan, Mr. Masen. My name is Kate and I'll be helping you today. Do you have any questions before we begin?" Her voice was calm and soothing, and she appeared happy to work with us.

I looked down at Bella as she glanced up at me. "Need anything?" I inquired, squeezing her hand gently.

"I'm good. I don't have any questions, yet." Bella pulled us forward to the two chairs. After she was seated, she slid her chair right next to mine.

Kate set out three white velvet jeweler's boards and a matching rectangular box about the size of a laptop.

"This will be easier than you think," began Kate.

_It had better be. I told them to streamline this part._

"I'm going to ask you a few questions, Bella, and I want you to say the first thing that enters your mind, okay?"

Bella nodded her head in assent.

"Clouds or sunshine?" Kate inquired with a pen poised over a small binder of papers.

"Um…. sunshine?" Bella responded with a questioning tone. Kate made a quick notation.

"Okay, the next one will sound a little strange," she warned.

Bella huffed out a laugh. "The first one was strange," she said aloud and then smacked a hand over her mouth. Bella's flabbergasted expression had Kate and I both suppressing smiles.

"Here's the next question," Kate prompted.

Bella tilted her head from side to side as though preparing to box an opponent. She cracked a few knuckles and said, "Hit me."

"I want you to pretend that you're buying a house," Kate looked at Bella expectantly, and Bella nodded, but looked down at her hand instead of at Kate. Bella was scrutinizing her left hand, flexing her fingers.

"Buying a house…" Bella repeated slowly.

"Yes. You've narrowed your options down to three locations, and the swimming pool is the deciding factor," Kate continued.

_Something's not right. When Bella avoids eye contact and hunches her shoulders, something's up._

"Excuse us one moment?" I interrupted quietly. Bella was already getting up and walking toward the corner.

"I'm being a total doof, Edward." She made her way over to where the mirrored wall met the plaster of the unadorned wall.

"Naturally, Bella. Nobody does doofy quite like you do. Now what's the deal? Do you need a Latin phrase? Or, there might be a couch behind that door – I bet I could get you to relax?" My voice trailed off innocently as she rolled her eyes and pressed a hand over my mouth.

"Quit it, you. Or, I'll take you up on that offer, and I'll be really, really loud."

An image of us naked and entwined on a white velvet chaise flashed into my head. Bella's mouth was open in a scream of ecstasy, and my hips were pistoning into hers in a steady rhythm.

_Fuck me. Is that idea hot or embarrassing?_

_It's embarrassingly hot in your case. _

I rested my forehead against Bella's and tried not to moan. Shifting from side to side, I decided she needed to be as turned on as I was.

I rubbed my hands up and down her sweater covered arms. Leaning down, I whispered into her ear.

"Mens sana in corpore sano." She shuddered and released a sigh. Her hands crept around my torso.

"No fair, getting me all turned on. We need to finish this ring thing." She peeked her head around my shoulder. "Kate's gone. She must have stepped out to give us a moment." Bella shifted her attention back to my face. "What does that one mean?"

"It means that you have a sound mind in a very sound body. So let's get your sound mind back to the lumps of carbon over there." She pursed her lips in response to my suggestion.

"Hey! What sent us to the dunce corner in the first place?" I inquired.

_You're losing your touch. You usually lead with desired information._

"I told you it was stupid." She sounded a little disgruntled.

"I'm fond of stupid. Tell me anyway, and no mumbling the answer into my chest." Bella pressed her nose into my sternum and did exactly that.

_What was that? Did she say something about a dreamy mouse? No, that has to be wrong._

Bella lifted her head and rolled her eyes.

"It's a simple question, Edward. I should be able to answer it."

"You still haven't explained whatever it is," I reminded her.

"We won't be buying some house in Brentwood or Santa Monica, Edward," she began patiently.

"We won't? Wait, you've thought about us buying a house?"

I swelled with a sense of pride at her confidence in our relationship.

"No, not really." Her voice was very matter of fact.

I deflated completely at her answer, but she wasn't done speaking.

"You see, Edward, you're going to go on an expedition for a plot of land with Emmett. There's just no way you'd allow us to buy a tract home."

_She knows me well._

"You have a point, dear. I hate those."

I may have even given a shudder of distaste.

_Emmett goes with me? He'd better not dress like Jungle Jim to take a brief hike in the hills. _

_Wait, how does she know this? Has she spoken with Alice or something?_

"So, you'll have to find some idyllic plot of land somewhere."

My attention was redirected.

_Hills….Valleys are good too. I could always buy an entire valley. No neighbors._

_Get back to the point at hand. _

_Yeah, my fingers are itching to unroll some drafting paper. I think I already know the bones of this house._

_Engagement rings, Edward. You could be done shopping right now. For that matter, you could be moving your morning sex with Bella to early afternoon._

I gave Bella a quick smacking kiss and directed us back to the chairs. Before we sat down, I decided to confirm her ideas.

"Bella, that's exactly what is going to happen, and then I'll be designing and building our house from the foundation up."

At that moment Kate returned carrying two bottles of water. She handed one to each of us and waited patiently while we both had a drink. Bella took the initiative to get everything back on track.

"Sorry about that, Kate. The house question threw me a little. We won't be buying a home. We're going to build one – a custom design. Does that affect the question?"

Kate blinked and then smiled.

"The house part was just the setup. Here's the important part. Your backyard will have a lovely swimming pool." Kate raised her eyebrows in question to ascertain if this was correct. Bella and I looked at one another before nodding our assent.

"Well then, Bella. Would you rather see a round Jacuzzi with beautiful blue tiles, a square pool for swimming laps, or a kidney bean shaped pool straight out of the 1970's?" Kate leaned a fist against her cheek and waited for Bella's response. Both Kate and Bella appeared to be having fun with this predictive questioning.

"May I select more than one?" Bella pursed her lips and glanced toward the mirrored wall. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, wondering what she was thinking.

"Absolutely," returned Kate.

"The round Jacuzzi will be on the private deck off the master suite. I think that will have to be fiberglass because of building code. Edward will also want the square pool for laps." Bella seemed content with her answer.

Kate made a few notations on her steno pad and then looked up again, with a mischievous grin.

_When exactly do we get to the part where we talk about jewelry? This is weird._

"The last question is for both of you." Kate turned three pages in her notebook and seemed to be running her finger down a list of some sort. I tried to read upside down. She glanced back up and caught me.

"This last question is about the purchase of a vehicle. Are you likely to buy a luxury vehicle, a compact fuel efficient vehicle, or an SUV?"

Bella playfully nudged me with her shoulder.

"This one's all yours, mister. I don't speak _Car and Driver_."

Before I could answer, Kate fired a response to Bella's comment. I sat back to observe.

"Your input on this is more important Bella, but let's let Edward start the conversation."

_We're sitting in a very posh jewelry store chatting about cars. _

_You told them unconventional was better than straightforward._

_I didn't think they would take me literally._

"We bought an SUV about a week ago, Kate," I began.

"Oh?" Kate responded, a tone of surprise in her voice. "Do tell," she prompted.

"We bought a luxury Land Rover for a trip up the mountains. It's Bella's primary car, now."

_Thank God she has a new car. The old one was not worthy of her._

"Is the model you bought the midsize SUV or the full size version?" Kate had her pen poised on that sheet of paper again. Bella answered for us.

"It has room for five passengers plus cargo – so is that midsize?" she asked, looking at me.

I nodded in confirmation. Kate scribbled her last series of notations into her folder.

"Well," began Kate. "I've gathered the information to show you the two or three rings I can recommend."

"Really?" asked Bella. She sounded excited. Perhaps she was twisting her hands together in eagerness instead of nerves.

_What the hell? She's excited now? What was with the dread earlier, and now she's eager? This woman continues to confuse me._

"I'll be right back, then," Kate replied.

As soon as the door closed with a soft click, I turned to Bella.

"I already know what you're going to ask, Edward," Bella began with a smug look on her face.

"There is no way you could already know what I'm about to ask," I said with confidence.

"Yes, there is a way. You are always so attentive towards me. Well, that and you looked shocked a second ago. You could only be shocked about one thing." Bella sounded very certain about her idea.

"And what would that one thing be?" I asked, tangling my ankles with hers. She entwined her legs around mine before disentangling herself and standing and climbing onto my lap. She was settled into her "spot" before she answered.

"Me," she responded with a decisive nod of her chin.

"Absolutely, Ms. Swan. You tend to display very _very_ shocking behavior," I said suggestively. She rolled her eyes at me, and then grew serious.

"I'm happy because that was fairly painless, and you made it that way."

I interjected to compliment Kate and the Tiffany's staff.

"No, no," she continued. "They would never have taken such a quirky approach if you had not told them to."

"I did give them some direction," I admitted.

"I like what she did with the weird questions – getting me to choose the color of the gold and the shape and size of the stone – very clever."

"What?" I asked, puzzled. She began to repeat herself.

"I like what she did with the –"

"You understood what she was doing the whole time?"

_I still don't get it, and I'm not lacking in intelligence._

"Well, I didn't follow her line of reasoning until she asked us about buying a car, and then it clicked. She made me choose between white and yellow, and I had to state a preference on shape, albeit the shape of a pool, but it's a shape nevertheless," she said with a shrug.

"I'm also happy because I think she'll show me the right ring, and I won't have to shop and agonize looking at hundreds of different things. That sounds overwhelming. The more I think about it, I'll get hung up on details. What we're doing now is going to work. I don't know how, but it will. I have faith, Edward."

"Who are you and what have you done with my fianceé?" I questioned in a suspicious tone of voice.

"I'm her. There, I said it. I'm your fiancée, and I'm not wigging out about money."

I lifted up a section of her hair, pretending to check if she was really Bella. I may have peeked down her shirt as well. She giggled and squirmed.

"Edward!"

"What? I'm checking if it's genuinely you. What if you're a fembot or something?" I asserted while sniffing her neck. "You smell right. Yep, it's definitely you." I sighed, still confused. "How come you were tense this morning and now you're fine?"

She got up off of my lap and adjusted her chair to face me directly before sitting down with one leg hiked up on the seat cushion. Her other leg was swinging back and forth.

"I'm not even going to know how much this stuff costs, and I just have to pick from whatever she shows me. You're never going to tell me, so I'm good. Nothin' doing." Bella snapped her fingers like she was a 1920's gangster.

"You know," I broached nonchalantly, "those Latin lovers in Rome had a little to say on the subject of money." I pretended to brush lint off of my chest and looked up at the ceiling. With folded arms, I sneaked glances at Bella out of the periphery of my vision.

She straightened in her chair. Her leg stopped swinging. The leg that had been hiked up slowly lowered to the ground. She crossed one leg over the other, appearing to squeeze her thighs together.

_Holy fuck. Her sexual responses to me are almost Pavlovian._ _I'll bet she's wet_

_Dammit, I want to check if she's hot and wet._

_Instant erection. _

_Get it together. She's waiting for her Latin phrase._

Gazing directly into her eyes and leaning forward, I focused on speaking the syllables slowly and affected my deepest tone of voice.

"Pecunia si uti scis, ancilla est; si nescis, domina."

The last syllable ended on a whisper. Her head fell back onto the seat back and she looked as though she'd melt into a puddle. One hand went to her forehead, and she emitted a soft moan.

"Fuck, Edward." She glanced over when she said that. "Dare I even ask what it means?"

I repeated the Latin phrase again slowly. This time I put a warm hand on her thigh.

"It's not even sexy, is it? The phrase translated into English?" She was mulling over the phrase, slowly repeated the syllables silently as she looked up from her reclined position.

"Nope, not even slightly sexy," I confirmed.

"Can you say it one more time? I love it when you talk Latin to me," she urged.

This time I got out of my chair and hovered over hers. She closed her eyes and smiled that tiny grin I love so much. I leaned completely into her space, but stopped short of touching her anywhere.

"'Pecunia si uti scis, ancilla est; si nescis, domina' means, 'If you know how to use money, money is your slave; if you don't, money is your master.'"

She opened her eyes, her mouth a small moue of surprise.

"That sexy sounding phrase is about money?"

"Yes," I answered succinctly, sitting down.

"Slave and master?" she sputtered out. "That sounds like bondage kink stuff! That was totally sexy! I call foul."

I bust up laughing.

_You dirty girl, you._

Patiently, I repeated the translation.

Here eyebrows went up when she finally allowed herself to comprehend the expression.

"That was very clever, using the Latin phrasing to prove a point about money and finance. Yes, that was absolutely pivotal, Mr. Masen."

_Dammit…not that last name nonsense again. _

I took hold of her left hand and wove our fingers together snugly.

"Mr. Masen, Bella?" I tilted my head in question. She knew exactly what I meant. She wiggled her fingers until I released our threaded grasp. She got out of her chair and walked around my chair slowly. One small knee landed on the upholstered patch of cushion between my thighs. I gulped and sat up straighter. Resting her weight on that one leg, she leaned entirely into my space.

_Goddess. _

_Sex kitten. _

_Fucking goddess sex kitten – do me._

Licking her lips and pressing her arms toward her breasts, she purred her response at me. I was blinded by glistening lips and bursting cleavage. I counted the pulse of every heartbeat in my now throbbing cock.

"That was _very, very_ clever, Edward." She stretched out the syllables of my name right next to my ear. I shuddered and grew impossibly harder.

"Oh my God, Bella." My voice sounded decidedly strangled.

"Can I give you two another minute?" Kate's quiet question broke the bubble of lust surrounding us. I tried valiantly to shake off the arousal.

Bella had already scurried back to her chair.

I adjusted the position of my seat and slid an assessing glance in Bella's directly. With a furrowed brow, I was pretending to make sure my seat was placed just so. In actuality, I was gaining a visual of two pointy nipples directed ever so innocently at Kate.

_Bella is just as furiously aroused as you are._

_That helps a little – at least I'm not suffering alone._

Bella discreetly crossed her arms over her chest. Kate didn't display any outward awareness of the two of us. She quietly arranged her jeweler's tools to their best advantage. She pressed a ring onto the stand embedded on each velvet display piece. Three gorgeous rings in yellow gold winked at us under the strategic lighting.

The first ring was called The Tiffany Embrace. It had a plethora of diamonds set into it. The center stone was huge – three carats, at least. I glanced over at Bella. She was shaking her head.

"Too big?" I whispered, leaning in her direction.

"Ginormous," she whispered back. "Major bling; I won't get any work done with that."

The second ring was a round brilliant cut stone and had channel set diamonds in the band. Bella slid the ring onto her finger.

"What do you think?" I offered, after she'd perused the ring on her hand from different angles.

"It's a definite contender," she stated.

Bella took the ring off and placed it back on the display stand, and we both directed our attention to the final ring before us.

"This is the square one?"

"Princess cut," Kate clarified. "We call this The Tiffany Grace. It has a 2 carat center stone and an additional carat of channel set stones on the band."

I held myself back from saying anything, wanting Bella to come to a decision on her own, without any influence from my end. Both of the smaller rings were quite striking. I would be happy to have either ring on her hand.

_Just choose one, Bella – so we can get out of here, and I can get you naked._

"I think the round cut is the winner," she replied shyly.

I took the ring and slid it onto her finger. It didn't need sizing – it was an exact fit. I couldn't restrain what was probably an ear-to-ear smile from consuming my face.

_There. It's done. _

_She's now wearing a symbol for the entire world to see that she is taken – yours. _

_She's wearing your heart on her hand._

_Whew! That was sappy. You should go lift some weights, do some bench presses._

_Ah, shut up. My girl is wearing my ring. I'm allowed to be sappy._

Bella threw herself into my embrace and we hugged for several minutes until we noticed the staff had once again left us alone for another private moment. After thanking Kate for her help, we gathered our belongings. Dazedly and grinning like idiots, we ambled out of the private viewing room and into the main showroom. Several attendants looked up when we exited.

"We did it!" Bella yelled, holding up her hand. She was beet red and giggling. The attendants chuckled in response and clapped. There was even a scattering of hoots and hollers from other guests in the store.

Leaving the store was a blur. I took her left hand in mine and we began to walk past the display cases.

"You already paid, Mister Sneaky?" she asked as we walked.

"I took care of that last week when I made the appointment," I explained.

We continued to talk as we walked toward the parking structure.

"So I get to design our house, huh?" I said, thinking about her insight into our future house.

_Things just keep getting better and better; I love today._

"Don't get too cocky, Edward. I can already see the wheels turning in your head," she said wryly.

"Oh, so you intend to rein me in if my ideas are too elaborate?"

"Let's approach this next step rather like the car you bought me," she suggested slowly. She put her hands out in the air much like a movie director frames a scene with his hands.

"Think… midsize, okay? We don't want a house so big that intercoms are a necessity."

I quickly put a fake expression of horrified shock onto my face.

"So, no cage for the lions? What about rings of fire for the front entrance?"

"Now you're just trying to irk me. We will not be residing at Caesar's Palace, you goofball."

"But the Roman Columns, Bella – think about the opportunity we have here – mirrored ceilings, red velvet draperies, cherubs! Thousands of frescoed cherubs…"

I watched as a slightly sick look crossed her face.

"Cherubs?" she asked weakly.

"We can do a combination of Roman architecture and celestial accents – you know, angels demons. I can design a truly hideous mess that we'll never want to live in."

"Ugh. You suck! You're totally messing with me, aren't you?" She gave me a solid thump on the shoulder with her small fist.

"You can bet your rotunda-hating ass I'm messing with you. I already gave myself limits, love. It won't exceed 4,000 square feet, and you get to choose the design aesthetic. I'll do the logistics on the blueprints. We can look at pictures and decide if you want a Georgian Manor or a Tudor – a Spanish Hacienda; whatever you think would be cool."

"How long have you been thinking about this, Edward?" She sounded very curious.

_How long have I been thinking about this?_

_Hmm. I don't really know. It seems like forever._

"Consciously thinking about this or subconsciously?" I asked, thinking aloud.

"Huh? How can you think about this in your subconscious?"

_She's not following your scattered answers. Explain better._

"I didn't admit it to myself until recently. I've been shoving the thought aside, distracting myself from contemplating our house too deeply. But, if I'm completely honest? I probably started dreaming, literally dreaming while I'm asleep, about our house after you read that running book and helped me for the first time. I started to have hope for the future, so I probably started thinking about it then."

Her mouth fell open.

"You've known that long?"

"If it was in my subconscious, then I haven't known. It's just something hanging around the edges of my conscious thoughts. Look at it like this. Have you ever woken up and known you were dreaming, but you couldn't load the dream into your alert brain?"

"Yes! That is so frustrating."

_I love that she gets me. _

"I think I've done that. This house may be mostly drafted in my dream-self's head. I can't wait to load my drafting software and see what happens."

We continued our discussion all the way home, talking, and dreaming, and laughing.

After I got a ring on her finger, things just seemed to click into place. We easily agreed that we didn't want an enormously opulent wedding, so we decided to have a small ceremony in the valley I purchased as the building location for our house. Construction on the pool house had finished and the drive had been paved.

We were married under a copse of beautiful willow trees with our family and friends around us. The small dinner reception at Café La Boheme was in the private garden patio. It was low-key and intimate, and exactly what I'd hoped would happen. I will always treasure the moment when Bella gazed tearfully into my eyes and promised to love and cherish me for the rest of our lives. It was especially satisfying to recite the promises I'd held in my heart for so long.

For our honeymoon, I took her to a small island off the coast of Italy. We stayed for two weeks – longer than we originally planned – not to see the sights, but to have more time alone together. The island was gorgeous – blooming with bougainvillea, and smelling of orange blossoms and lavender. Frankly, I have no idea what else on that island. I vaguely remember a fishing village and an open air market – we hardly left our villa except to take in the extravagant sunset each evening.

Oh, and our house turned out to be gorgeous. Bella has excellent taste. Her house, because I designed it for her really, has five bedrooms and bathrooms with a Southern Antebellum styling. She wanted the wrap-around porch and the wooden details in the railings.

We love to spend time at home in the matching antique rocking chairs she found at a flea market, and the view of our California sunset in the valley is lovely – truly exquisite. It's a frequent reminder of that sunset walk home that began our journey together as a couple.

~~FTT~~

_Flash Forward Three years._

"Are you done yet?" I hollered with a complete disregard for my disgust with hollering fools.

She didn't answer.

I paced back and forth over the rectangular disks of light filtering in through the French doors in our master bedroom. The hardwood floors echoed with my footsteps as I glanced yet again at the door leading to the master bathroom.

_It's 3:17. That's one minute beyond the last time you looked. Stop looking at your damned watch and calm down._

"How about now?" I asked, walking closer to the bathroom door. "I still don't understand why I can't be in there with you. I've seen you pee before, you know."

The door swung open in my face. Bella looked supremely irritated.

"Seriously, Edward? Go away. You're stressing me out, and I wasn't even stressed out about this. It is what it is. Now go fondle some measuring tape and leave me alone to pee in silence. I can't even do this with you hovering on the other side of the door. I'm having performance pee anxiety!" She shooed me out of our bedroom and down the hall to my office.

"I promise to come get you. When I find out if your baby snot is in my uterus, you will be the second person to know! Now go away. Shoo!"

She shooed me. She shooed me out of my own bedroom.

_I've never been shooed before. _

_That fucking sucks. _

_This is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me - apart from when we got married._

_This is an earth-shattering moment! I'm getting shushed and shooed? _

_Fuck that. I'll break down the door if I have to. _

_She just told you to back off. She might take exception to your destroying a door._

_I can just make another door. I still have a tool belt and a table saw._

Sitting at my drafting table, I allowed the idle idea to play out in my head.

_**The door slams open with a crash. It slides slowly to the floor with a thud. I stand in the doorway, shirtless, my chest heaving.**_

_Dude, why is your shirt off?_

_I have no fucking idea. Leave me alone._

_**Bella runs to me, carrying a small bundle in her arms. It is a teeny-tiny armful of baby, all snuggled up to her womanly curves. I hold her close to me and kiss her on the forehead. The baby gurgles, and a bubble clings to those perfect lips.**_

Without knowing what I've done, I've been sketching the scene at my drafting table. I began shading in the light, the shadows, and the character lines while I waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

_Good grief. How long does it take to pee on a stick?_

"I have something for you," she said quietly.

Immediately, I spun around in my work chair, an expression of anticipation on my face. Bella was standing before me with a white gift bag in hand. I looked at her and then at the bag.

_What is this all about?_

Reaching into the bag, I pulled out a yellow hard hat.

"Read the front of it, here," she said, directing me to turn the hat over.

_It's a custom designed hard hat that says, 'Daddy'._

_I'm going to be a daddy, with Bella. _

_I'm going to be a daddy!_

We were hugging and crying and laughing all at once.

_What a great memory._

So, we're truly content. Our lives are filled with satisfying work. My architectural firm is making a profit on its own. Bella works in publishing for now. She edits manuscripts from her office on the second floor. She's still toying with the idea of switching careers to teaching or writing. We have our entire lives ahead of us. I'm sure she'll change careers as the inclination strikes her.

Christopher Masen is a handful. He's cute, and he knows it. He wound up with my crazy hair and Bella's brown eyes. When he's misbehaved, he runs to one of us and tries to distract from whatever mischief he's committed. He frequently gets away with these shenanigans by saying something charming in his emerging toddler language. I love him so much it hurts.

It's a big house for only three people and a housekeeper. I'm working on that, however. Did I mention we have five bedrooms? Bella is adorable when she's pregnant, and hot - smokin' hot. When she was around four months gone with Christopher, she must have jumped me six times in one day!

_I could have handled eight, but she needed her rest._

_Those were good times. I wonder if she could use a break right about now._

_You're going to disturb her while she's working? Disturb her for sex?_

_Damn straight, I am. Since when is Bella ever disturbed when I rub my cock against her ass? Those perfectly rounded cheeks are like a homing beacon. Whenever she's in my vicinity, her hips head straight for my cock and begin to…_

"Edward!" I hear my name from the other side of the door. "Could you use a break? I could really go for some sex right about now. Christopher is asleep." Her voice trails off.

I vault out of the chair, taking out a wastepaper basket in my haste. I fireman-carry her out of the hallway and straight toward our bedroom.

Life is definitely good.

**A/N:**

**This has been such a rewarding experience for me. I hope it was enjoyable for you too. It was wonderful to connect with so many of you, and it was wonderful to become a part of something. I regret that I didn't find this awesome community sooner.**

**I can remember the early days of writing this story – approaching scenes I never thought I would ever have the guts to write. What a learning curve! TwilightMomofTwo has been my sarcastic sidekick through all 193,000 words. That is a huge act of kindness, taking on a novice writer and showing her the ropes.**

**Those of you who did not send me hate mail for my lapses in posting are to be commended as well. Thanks for that. During one of my write-fail periods, Xtothey and AmyDee both graciously acted as pre-readers in the hopes of pulling me out of my writer's block. They were both super supportive and jumped at the chance to help.**

**I'm chewing on the idea for another story. If I get my act together, you may see a teaser for it posted on Fictionators. **


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